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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473336">His Salvation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbaker77/pseuds/dbaker77'>dbaker77</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cursed (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:22:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbaker77/pseuds/dbaker77</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They have a history. They never thought they would see each other again. Fate intervened. The whispering ash witch has just one chance to bring him home. Will the Weeping monk find his salvation or will the whispering ash witch meet her kin in death?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I intend to take this past season 1, with no season 2 yet, i will be using my imagination to continue the story. please don't hesitate to review. it helps me to grow as a writer and improve. take pity on me, this is the first fanfiction i have ever written.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>*disclaimer – I do not own any of the characters of cursed. However, the other Oc’s are the creation of my mind*</p><p>The horse lopped along, a rider slumped over its back, barely hanging on. They were not noticed at first, the horse’s gait was slow but sure footed. Weighted like it was tired. Slowly as they got closer, the people in the fields noticed movement. And then recognition. Shouts were heard as people abandoned their tasks to race to the aid of the wearied horse and rider. Something was terribly wrong. The first couple of people reached the horse, stopping it in its tracks as other figures raced forward to lend aid. On first glance the rider looked to be unconscious. A closer look revealed certain horror. The horses left flank was drenched in blood.<br/>
‘get him down’ screamed a man. The bodies around him helped to lift the man to the ground. On his back, his injuries revealed themselves. They were horrific…. they were grievous….<br/>
‘he’s alive’ intoned another as they checked for a pulse. ‘barely’. He added.<br/>
‘I don’t recognise who it is beneath the blood. Come let us get him to Danlen.’ With perfect execution, several men simultaneously lifted the injured man and transported him to hut not far away. They entered and placed the body onto a table. Danlen came forward, surveying the blood drenched dirty man in front of him. His breathing was shallow, rattling with liquid and wheezing. He was not long for the eternal rest his kind found in death. Nodding to himself Danlen instructed warm water, rags and specific herbs were brought to him. He knew he had not the talent to keep this man alive, but he could at least make the last moments of this man’s life comfortable. When the warm water reached his side, Danlen proceeded to bathe the mans face. At least they might be able to identify his tribe. However, devotion to care soon turned to shock and horror as the mans face was revealed to be a man, they all knew very well……. Their leader storic. Panic set in and commands were given for storic’s wife to be bought to the hut. Sorrow permitted the air. This was serious…. Something was very very wrong.<br/>
Etheline raced into the hut, stopping suddenly upon seeing her beloved on the table. Horror and tears graced her eyes, her hand covering her mouth as a horrified whimper broke out.<br/>
‘Storic….; the name whispered watery from her lips. She went to his side.<br/>
‘What happened?’ she questioned. Several men shook their heads, several negative sounds echoed around the room.<br/>
‘We do not know my lady. What was he doing today?’ Danlen questioned her, his voice soft, apologetic, and supportive. Etheline shook her head, her hand uncovering her mouth and resting upon her chest.<br/>
‘he was with the other tribe by the vestual rocks… he was formalising Eleesia’s betrothal to Cadric’s son…. Not this…. “her voice trailed off in a sob. Danlen shared pointed looks with the others around the room. This did not look very good at all. their kind never fought with each other. There was no reason for storic to return to them barely alive. They had all heard of the raids… not many just a few. Enough to cause wariness with a potential panic. All villages of their kind…. No survivors. They were enough away to not be a direct threat…. but they were concerning. The evidence was mounting up, proving their kind was targeted to be the start of termination. Many believed it was the beginning.<br/>
Suddenly activity in the room became hectic as the injured man on the table coughed and spluttered. His arms shot up, waving around and great heaving breaths struggled to get out of blood-filled lungs. After being turned and emptying what blood he could, the man was rolled back onto his back. His breath rattled, but his eyes were open. He was conscious, pain glistened in his eyes and his voice rasped in broken words to get his message out.</p><p>‘they came……. From nowhere…………. Red…. men in red………killed…. everyone…. oh hidden…… the children…… ‘disjointed sentences and words were expelled into the air, freezing everything as the horrifying events were relayed to those present. Gasps and terrified looks graced the faces of those that listened.<br/>
‘cadric …. oh hidden…. Cadric’s dead…… they took his son……. I tired…. oh hidden …. I tried to save him…… I could not…. hidden forgive me………I could not……. they took him’ the story had become clear…. the other village needed aid. Action was taken, several men left the tent, preparations were made. They would go to the other village, find out the truth. In the nearly empty hut, Etheline held Storics hand tightly. He was not long of this world now. He turned his head to look upon the woman he loved with all his life.<br/>
‘get Eleesia…. Run …. hide……. do not let them …. Take her too……’<br/>
‘I won’t’ she gently replied, smiling gently in anguish as storic took his last breath. He had done his deed; he has warned his village. Etheline let out a sob, taking a moment to lay her head on her beloveds’ chest as her pain and sobs shook her shoulders. She accepted Danlen’s supportive hand laid gently on her shoulder blade momentarily, before rising and swiftly leaving the tent. She would do as storic bid, but not before she had word of the other village. It might not be that bad……. She would be prepared all the same.</p><p>Several riders reached the desolated battle torn village. Huts burned, fields were trampled and uprooted. Blood drenched the earth from the bodies littered around, some of their kind, some in blood encrusted red robes. Tall crossed dotted the landscape, mounds of wood underneath giving fuel to the raging fires that lovingly caressed the bodies hanging dead on the crosses. Smoke rose in the air, washing the scene in a parody of mist. It was a gruelling horrific scene, the stuff of nightmares. Further explorations showed nonalive, nothing left untouched. The scent of death lingered with the scent of burning wood and ash. Some lost the contents of their bellies. Tears coursed down faces, voices and words of sorrow sang out. The grief for such senseless tragedy was overwhelming. The dead had fought in desperation. But the scene proved it was futile. It was a senseless mass extermination. A few men scoped the outside of the village, seeming to look at the ground. One voice rose above the others, bringing them all together hurriedly.</p><p>‘something was dragged from here……’ further investigation revealed nothing. Twilight saw the men travelling home, desolate, shoulders slumped in grief, terror their constant companion. Upon arrival to their village, they relayed what they had seen to their elders. The story the desolation of the other village foretold. Others of the tribe had gathered listening in horror to the unfolding truths. It seemed as if they were hunted, their kind had become the prey.<br/>
Etheline listened quietly, sorrow deep in her chest, her body aching for the lives lost. Nodding slightly to herself she returned to her hut and made final preparations. She and her daughter would leave at dawn.<br/>
……………………………………………………………<br/>
The sky had barely lightened when the men in red came. The first stirring elicited a grotesque surprise, the air filling with terror filled screams as people were pulled from their homes. By daybreak everything had progressed. Crosses were going up; a huge bonfire took the focus off the burning village as men in red dragged people to be cleansed by their faith. Smoke framing the village almost eerily.  No one noticed the small handful of people and children slipping away, the last of their tribe, the dark marks under their eyes denoting their identity, never to be seen for along time………</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was so long ago when her mother and her fled. Eleesia barely remembered any of it. She had been young, really young. But some of them had survived the red paladins attack. And they had travelled, banded together in hopes of safety and a new life. More then that, they had met up with others of their species. They always had stayed on the move in the hopes the paladins would never catch them. And in the end, they had decided to settle in a decidedly dangerous place…… one the paladins would hopefully least expect. They lived in the thick forests close to the paladin’s church. It would be the last thing that would be expected of them. Eleesia had been 6 when they first settled. And not long after, some of her kin gained more adventurous and was able to sneak close enough to the paladin’s church to gain information. The most startling, was the paladin raids on their villages. The paladins had taken more then a few children. All boys, and young. They had heard that their breed of fey had the talents of sensing our own kind. So, they had sought to give themselves a glaring advantage. They took children, they abused them, brainwashed them, manipulated them. They trained them, viscously to mould them into the very weapons they sought to use against them. However, many of the boys did not last. Some did not hold up against the cruel unjustly punishments. The beatings. The whippings. They died in agony, long from home wishing for things that could never happen. Their people sought drastic measures, and in sneaky manoeuvres, they sought to free some of the children. They were killed for their valiant try. So much death. So much wasted life. they always kept on the move. But stayed close in hopes of saving those they thought lost to them. </p><p>Eleesia often strayed from her mother, and in a child’s lucky way, was often able to go where adults could not. She was often unseen, unheard, and so unexpectedly stumbled upon a foul place. A place where they placed the boys, beaten, tortured, hurt, in solitary confinement for a limited time as punishment for slights against a faith that was not their own. When she found the first boy, she was horrified, terrified, scared. Their blood seeping from their wounds, tired, dirty, hungry, and more often then not weeping. Eleesia kept quiet, and in their state did not recognise the pull to one of their own. Several days Eleesia stayed away, frightened by the images that replayed behind her eyes when she slept cuddled up to her mother. Then one day, Eleesia felt angry. These were her people they were hurting. She was a child, but she could do something to help. Time, her environment and experiences had aged her. With the steely resolve of a stubborn child, Eleesia started gathering things to her she thought she would need. Her mother had been teaching her small things. Like the pastes she used for wounds to help infection. Poultices for pain. Tonics to help lower temperatures. Her mother always kept a supply of such things, to help in a hurry when in need. And so Eleesia took some, just a few of each, feeling guilty all the while that her mother would need to work longer to restock the supply, lest her people needed them. Eleesia had gone to other parts of her kin’s camp, finding dried fruits, and cured smoked meats her people made, nuts and other such long lasting titbits. Then she gathered a soft skin, one made to hold water. Lastly, she found linen rags. She could not bandage the boy’s wounds, but she could use the rags to clean their cuts. In her naivety, Eleesia never knew she would cause the boys more anguish from her noble pursuit. Or the deaths of what was left of her people. She forged on.</p><p>She found him one night a couple days later. Maybe a couple years older than herself. It was night, and he was in a cell separated from the main building. She had found the bottom wall at the back was crumbling where it met the ground. Curious she started to dig, realising a fundamental flaw to the construction of the windowless cell. There was no real foundation. Its as if they placed the building directly onto the dirt, no stones, or cobbles underfoot. She made a hole big enough and slid through. Although the cell was windowless, it was not completely dark. The top of the cell was not watertight. Nor was it any proper shelter. Parts of the roof had long ago crumbled leaving parts of the small cell open to the elements. The moon took advantage of this, and shined in, highlighting the cells sole occupant. A boy, his back whipped, his face full of blood and dirty. He was unmoving. Eleesia carefully scurried to him. He made no move to indicate he knew she was there. Acting quickly lest she was caught, she gathered her water and rags, and started by gently cleaning his wounds. His groan caught her by surprise. Yet he had not gained consciousness. Carefully she set to work, cleaning his wounds, putting a paste as carefully into them, jumping at the sounds of agony he made. Often, she would stop, taking the time to murmur things to him, trying to bring him comfort in the best way she could. The only way she really knew. Then carefully she would retreat, taking her things with her. Most nights she returned, repeating her ministrations. Slowly the boy healed and soon enough, one night he awoke. However as happy as he was to realize some of his people survived, he pleaded she save him. She was unable to. She could not do so on her own, and too many of her people had died trying to free the other children. The few left had refused to bring more dead to themselves. Instead he begged her to leave him, scared she would be found. She resisted, and over time, through his repeated abuse, they became friends. She would tend to his wounds, and he would take comfort that the paladins had not found her. His only connection to what he had lost.</p><p>……………………</p><p>He had changed, slowly growing stronger. He learnt new skills, forgot his old life. What scared Eleesia most, was that his beliefs and disposition also changed. The hard work of the paladins it seemed was working. What saved Eleesia the most from his changing beliefs, was the pain and torture he was put through, was enough to cloud his senses for a time. In those fleeting moments, he never sensed what she was. It was a gift really. For they had grown close. She did not want to see hate in his eyes, even though they were both the same. For the same reasons, his abuse also slowed. He was no longer in solitary confinement as much now. Behaving and doing as his captors had wanted and expected of him. She missed him, but she kept watch, slipping into the cell when she knew he inhabited it. Although through the years, she had near misses, they had never caught her. Although they noticed his healing, they had not taken the time to notice the pastes that had time to soak into his wounds before they released him. And so, her ministrations and remained hidden, secret. He never exposed her. She did not understand why, but she did not question it in case she gave him the idea to. She had gotten to know him well, his scent under the dirty and blood, his body she attended. The feel of his hair as she ran her fingers through it, his pain ridden voice and hands. And little by little she had fallen that little bit deeper, got that much closer to him. He had come to know her too, her scent, her voice, the sound of her footsteps. He looked forward to those rare visits and enjoyed the physical comfort of hugs and light touches she willing gave that was otherwise refused to him. It had been 8 years, and once again he had been punished. Worse than normal. More boys had died. Too weak to serve the lord they had said. There was only him now. The strongest. Their weapon. They had said he had been chosen for this task. And yet his training had not gone as smoothly. He had been punished for it. She found him there that night. She was horrified by what they had done. So, she set to work, quiet tears streaking her cheeks as she treated his injuries. Quiet groans reached her; he was trying madly to restrain the sounds of his pain. After she was done, she kissed his forehead, apologized that he should know the hate of others touching him, and left. When she was safe, she wept for him.</p><p>Days, she had attended to him. He was finally healing. That night she came to check on him. He had pleaded with her not to help him anymore. They would know. She had agreed but lingered with him. She was 14 now, and her affection for him was no mere child’s feeling. Her body had developed. She found him handsome, alluring almost with his strength and his unwillingness to give up. He too had noticed the changes in her and himself, and often found himself not wanting her to leave just yet. To have her linger. He was drawn to her, her compassion. And so that night he kissed her. Not a mere peck on the lips. He tasted her, she allowing him too. They lingered, tested, adjusted to each other, and experimented. And when the pre-dawn light started to filter through the broken roof, he bade her leave lest she be caught and killed. She did but did not stay away. They started a dangerous game of meeting secretly close to the paladin’s church. A game that became a dance of attraction and lure. Although he was taught this was wrong and against the church, he could not deny how right and pure it felt. He often punished himself in secret. He felt weak, unresisting to her charms. And yet, the dance continued. Until the night before her 15th birthday. As 2 pubescent children, they had let the feelings they held overwhelm them. Encouraged by each other’s positive reactions, they had delved more deeply, and she had invited him to take her body. He has refused, they had argued. But he gave in, when she had appealed to his teachings, citing how could he resist that which he did not know or understand. Was he not to spill blood? In his capitulation, he spilled first blood, taking her innocence, and spilling himself deeply inside her. She had been willing, denying him nothing, not even hiding her pain as her maidenhead was torn. She had given him everything, including her passion, and he had given her his final rebellion against the church. <br/>That one act was the catalyst of his final turning. She had been seen leaving. They had tailed her and found the last of his kin. They had killed them. Except her, Carden had wounded her, leaving a deep cut down the left side of her face from level with her eyebrow to a couple centre metres above the bottom of her jaw. She had escaped. not that the boy knew that. Carden had stormed into his rooms. Had seen the evidence of her blood upon the sheets and had taken the boy, whipped him for all he was worth, beat him, starved him, tortured him for days. He had taunted him, dropping in front of the torn boy, a scrap of cloth from the girl’s dress. It was the final lesson and the only thing that worked.</p><p>He broke.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was night, Eleesia laid down near the fire, listening to the crackle. Her head was nestled against a small log. She looked up into the canopy of trees in the forest, gazing at the stars playing peak a boo. Her thoughts drifted. It had been years since the final annihilation of her people. After she had escaped Carden and the red paladins, she had hidden. As soon as she could in relative safety, she returned to the paladin’s church. It was empty. There was nothing, no one. She broke down, her thoughts going to the boy. She prayed to the hidden that he would survive. She made an oath; she would search for him…. For any left, she would bring them home. She would find him again. She would tell him, that she had fallen. She would always be his. after she had kept moving, stopping only to hunt and catch a few hours sleep in bushes or rocks. She had come across a small settlement of mountain folk, who gave her shelter and food. Her stay had progressed longer, as some of the warriors taught her to use a sword for protection. She had left and travelled more, stumbling into a fight of humans and Fauns. In gratitude for aiding them, they had too offered her shelter and food. They taught her to use a bow and arrows. Eleesia had been fortunate, through her travels she had met other fey folk, learning useful skills, making friends, before moving on. She never could settle, an emptiness in her very soul made her restless. She never felt at home, never felt that she belonged and so had kept moving on. Currently she was making her way towards where she had been told the sky folk lived. Maybe there she might find a semblance of peace. At the very least, she might understand why the hidden spoke to her occasionally. And why they chose in her greatest need to aid her. And maybe she could gain more information. She had heard of the attacks resumed by the red paladins. She had heard they thought her kind unnatural, abominations because they could use magic, because they did not adhere to the church and the god they worshipped. She had heard of the massacres, the horrors and burnings committed in hatred in the name of cleansing. She had heard of the most infamous weapon…. the weeping monk. She brooded upon this. A man who was unnaturally fast and a gifted fighter. It was said he never wasted time on movements. He was quick, precise, adept, and proficient as his craft. She suspected she knew who he was. She hoped deeply her suspicions were true. she sighed. She had listened, she had stored the information away. She hopefully would know what she desired soon enough. She closed her eyes, allowing her to drift off to the comforting crackle of the fire.</p><p>………</p><p>A few afternoons later, saw Eleesia partially hidden in the trees. She was still, she had sensed some fey around her, and waited to see who they were. A group of fey, their attention trained in the other direction, were stalking. This interested Eleesia. She quietly shifted around the fey…. Their attention firmly lodged on their prey. Then she saw them. The weeping monk, riding steadily upon his horse, a rope trailing along behind him….and attached to that a boy. A fey boy. Eleesia knew the stories of this assassin. This was no coincidence. There is no way, such an accomplished weapon like this one, would carelessly leave himself open to attack…. not unless this was a trap. Eleesia heaved a silent sigh. She had heard he could sense their kind. She realised should she intervene, she would be facing a skilful opponent, a very intelligent one. She would bet everything she owned that the monk was using the child to draw out the others of her kind. Her kind were known for their love of family, of how protective they were. It was not such a jump in thought to realise exactly what was going to happen, and very soon judging by how close the small group of fey stalked the predator and his bait. Damn, she was gonna have to head off this slaughter. Another silently heaved sigh, Eleesia slipped back and circled the group, waiting for the opportune time enlighten them of the biggest mistake that would cost their lives.<br/>…….<br/>The weeping monk and his captive had stopped assumedly for the night. Eleesia knew, the group would try to attack later in the night when they believed the weeping monk would let down his guard more. She quietly snorted. No warrior of his worth would be that stupid. Looks like the small group were set to underestimate their quarry. Although she could understand why they targeted the monk. He after all was the instrument that destroyed most of the fey kind. However right this moment, the concerns of the child sat in everyone’s mind. She stalked forward, quietly, slowly, and surely, taking care not to disturb the leaves and branches on the ground too much. She wanted the group to know another of their kind was approaching but did not want the sound to carry to the monk. However, there was no doubt, if rumours were true that he already knew fey kind was near. As she closed in the group, several turned to her, their weapons held in warning. She nodded briefly too them, her eyes never leaving their faces under her hood. One bold fey spoke out.</p><p>‘born in the dawn…….’ The words hung questioningly in the silence. She whispered the rejoinder.<br/>‘to pass in the twilight.’ They relaxed enough to lower their weapons but not enough to be aware of their surroundings.<br/>‘what are you doing here sister?’ one asked. She scrutinised him for a moment before answering quietly.<br/>‘saving your lives’. Movement met her ears, quiet mutters sounding from their lips.<br/>‘and how are you doing that?’ the defensive tone nettled her. Did they not realise what was afoot?<br/>‘I assume you have heard of his reputation?’ she asked, flicking her chin in the direction of the monk.<br/>‘yeah everyone has. That is why we are here…. he needs to be dealt with.’ Eleesia scoffed. They were either daft or naive. Even she did not think she could take the monk on.<br/>‘then you would know he already knows we are here; you would already be aware of his skills. He wouldn’t be so careless to walk around practically announcing to the world here I am, I have one of yours… you think he wouldn’t have a plan ey?’ her whispered words cut through the small group and again restless movements sounded.<br/>‘what you are saying? squirrel is bait?’ at her nod, a couple of the men swore.<br/>‘well what are we waitin for? We can take him, he won’t be expectin it’ one of the others tried to encourage. Eleesia closed her eyes and pleaded to the hidden for patience for but a moment. <br/>‘you’re not a skilled fighter, are you?’ he straightened at her words, aggression in his voice as he answered.<br/>‘I can fight well enough…’. She looked to him.<br/>‘that I have no doubt. However, he is another thing entirely. Look, you might get lucky, but I doubt it. The kid is bait. He is seeking to lure you out…. you want to die?’ shakes of heads from the group in front of her answered her question.<br/>‘I suppose you can fight then?’ her face twisted in amusement at the question that was directed at her. <br/>‘yeah a little’ she flippantly answered. She wondered how they would take that.<br/>‘what do you propose?’ asked the original speaker. Slowly letting out her breath between her teeth, Eleesia shuffled in closer to the group, and started whispering quietly. They surrounded her listening intently.<br/>…………………….<br/>It was early hours of the morning, not a soul stirred. The weeping monk was slumped up against a tree, to all appearances asleep. His body looked relaxed, his arms crossed, hand clutching hand. Squirrel was laid out on his back not far from the monk, his eyes closed, his hands bound in front of him, breathing steadily. His bindings secured to a tree by a small length of rope. It was time. Slowly, the group closed in, surrounding the duo from all sides. Eleesia did not think this would’ve worked any other way. But hopefully what they had planned would work. As they got closer, joss held up a rusty pitchfork and rested it lightly against the weeping monk’s chest. <br/>‘get up you murdering pig’ he spat out. Instantly squirrel sat up, recognition lighting up his features.<br/>‘joss’ he called out. Joss turned his head towards squirrel, momentarily taking his eyes off the monk.<br/>‘squirrel, you alright?’ he questioned in acknowledgment. After receiving a brief relieved look from squirrel, joss motioned with his jaw to the monk.<br/>‘tie him up.’ He said. As one of the others reached out and hauled the monk to his feet, joss continued ‘I think we’ve caught the big killer. Look at the eyes.’ Squirrel looked between them. The monk flicked his gaze from the man in front of him to joss.<br/>‘shed a few for us brother.’ Intoned the man in front of the monk as he looked deeply at the killer’s face. <br/>Joss looked to his right. ‘get me a nice red one drim’ he said to his friend who was by the fire. The weeping monks bound hands were yanked as they led him to his horse, Eleesia slowly circled casually so she was behind him, at a small distance, wearily watching the monk closely. She was expecting him to act.<br/>‘ever been dragged behind horse with a hot coal up his bum?’ questioned joss conversationally. Silent rained in the campsite before the monk’s smooth voice broke it.<br/>‘no, not that I can recall.’ Squirrel looked up, desperation upon his face. ‘just kill him joss’ he begged. <br/>‘what did you have in mind for squirrel you sick bastard’ joss asked the monk. <br/>‘I’ve got no interest in the boy……. He’s bait’ announced the monk. A couple of the group looked to Eleesia and she shrugged, a look of well that was kind of expected on her face.<br/>Joss looked blankly at the monk. ‘bait?’ he lowly enquired. ‘for what?’<br/>the monks horse neighed beside them.<br/>‘be still goliath’ the monk instructed, looking at his steed. Then he turned and looked back a joss. <br/>‘for you’ the proclamation on the monk’s lips almost sounded like a softly spoken prayer. It danced teasingly down Eleesia’s back, shivered erupting in its wake. Voices whispered teasingly at Eleesia’s ears, as the hidden warned her of impending death. In that split second, she sensed the split tightening of the monk’s muscles in preparation of action. He was going to attack. Within seconds she unsheathed her sword while simultaneously kicking out viscously at the backs of the monk’s knees, sending him to the ground on his knees at the unexpected move. She rested her blade across his neck from behind.<br/>‘I wouldn’t if I were you’ her voice, deepening in warning broke the silence. Restless and startled movements of the others resounded. The monk visibly relaxed, is head back, eyes resting on joss and his face blank of expression. He was intrigued. A woman seemed to have anticipated him. Interesting. Eleesia motioned joss take her place and stepped back to allow him to quickly slip into position. She sheathed her sword and circled to the front of the monk, his eyes following her steadily. She reached out to the other woman.<br/>‘give me more rope.’ Within seconds it was put in her hands and she turned to face the monk. Avoiding his eyes, she knelt in front of him, lifted is bound hands and started to work. She doubled the binding of his hands, pushing them against his body and looping the rope twice around his waist, tying off the end of the rope at his wrists again. She was very aware of his aura. His physique. His quiet breathing. Of how relaxed he seemed. Of how she feels he allowed her to tie him. Of his eyes silently studying her. She knew now, she was right. She knew who he once was. He was something else. His scent was too familiar to her. And he was curious about her. It was the only reason she could think of why he had not fought back. Of all the things she heard, she had doubted they would have got this far if he didn’t want them too. Once she was done, she pulled up on his wrists. He got the hint and stood. She tugged him back towards where he rested. He casually ambled along with her. And then she positioned him and pushed down. He accented and sat. once he had, she squatted and tied his feet.<br/>‘so, what happens now?’ joss asked her. She stood up. She carefully watched the others for a moment before she answered.<br/>‘its too dangerous to travel at night. We wait, rest and in the morning, we take him to the others.’ The others nodded, accepting this and prepared the camp to suit them. The other woman raced away to get their things they had left behind. Squirrel, a little upset faced Eleesia.<br/>‘why, he’s too dangerous. He’s only going to kill us.’ Eleesia listened to his concerns, nodded at his statement. She thought for a moment and answered squirrel honestly.<br/>‘there’s more to him, to this then what is known.’ Squirrel looked at her puzzled.  When looking at the others, she realised they had heard and were just as confused.<br/>‘what do you mean?’ Eleesia started looking around, spied a small branch with leaves and snapped it off at its source. She returned to the camp, and without answering, lowered herself to squat at the monk’s side. When she looked up, she saw his steady gaze on her. Blandly she finally replied.<br/>‘he’s fey.” And with that, she reached out and touched his hand with the leaves. the reaction was instantaneous. Foul words lit the air, tension swallowed the camp as the monk’s skin reacted and blended with the leaves. The monk just sat, not flinching, not reacting in any physical way. He just steadily watched Eleesia, both gazing into each other’s eyes. Several of them went towards the monk, shouting out why, how could he. It was assumedly to hurt him, thought Eleesia. However, she stood hurriedly between them and the monk and drew her sword. This caught their attention and they backed up.<br/>‘how did ya know that?’ joss questioned her.<br/>The corner of Eleesia’s mouth perked up into a parody of a smirk, her voice emulating the irony of her words as she spoke.<br/>‘unnaturally fast, gifted in fighting, sensing his own kind. His scent. It was a gut feeling. the marks below the eyes are unusual for human blood. I only thought to confirm it.’ The monk stayed eerily still, witnessing the revelation.<br/>‘so that is why you wanted to save him, to take him to the others….’ drim stepped forward.<br/>‘not quite’ and with that she sheathed her sword and moved to the spot just shy of the monk’s feet and settled herself in front of the fire, arms crossed around her chest, leaning against a log that had been dragged over.<br/>‘what do you mean?’ squirrel said. He moved to Eleesia’s side and sat beside her.<br/>‘I made a promise long ago…… i’m honour bound to keep it.’ You could see the questions in the eyes of the others as they settled. They were hesitant, picking up on her reluctance to speak. The other woman encouraged her.<br/>‘will you tell us?’<br/>‘the red paladins raided the ash folk; they took the young boys. I promised my kin, I wouldn’t rest until they came home…… even the lost ones.’ Her wearied voice whispered through the camp. All eyes were on her, but hers were staring into the fire. They all knew the stories, the history. They all understood.<br/>‘nah…. its more than that.’ Joss said certainly. However, it was the smooth, almost seductive but certain words of the monk that snapped their attention.<br/>‘its personal’. Eleesia, her gaze still caught by the fire whispered a heart broken response.<br/>‘yes….’ Its was squirrel who first begun to suspect.<br/>‘who was he?’ Eleesia smiled faintly, she was impressed. The boy was smart.<br/>‘someone I couldn’t save. I only knew him by name.’<br/>‘what name?’ joss quietly asked of her. Silence permeated the camp, except for the sounds of the forest at night around them. The fire cracked merrily, but Eleesia was numb to it. She was lost momentarily in her memories. Her quiet whisper had almost everyone straining to hear her. All except the monk. He stiffened, his eyes sharpened, searching her face for a lie, for familiarity, for something.<br/>‘Lancelot’. <br/>Eleesia reclined further, almost laying on the ground. She felt a deep cold, not from the night swamp her body. Her eyes still watched the fire, almost mesmerised by the imagined images dancing in the flames. Behind her, squirrel curled up into her side, and she automatically put her arm around him. She knew he was seeking comfort and safety.<br/>‘I’ll stand watch’ she heard one of the others quietly say. She drifted to sleep, memories of long ago haunting her sleep.<br/>………………<br/>In the pre-dawn light, he acted. They had foolishly left him armed. That was their first mistake. Using slow movements, he lifted his sword enough to tangle the rope in its blade. He was not tied too tightly, and this worked in his favour. Once the ropes binding him up top were done, he waited for the watch to turn his back. Pulling a knife, he cut his ankle bindings. No one woke, no one moved. Carefully he got up, and like a ghost, crept up behind the watch. He quickly covered the man’s mouth, pulling him against him, while simultaneously reaching around and slitting his throat. Lowering him quietly to the ground, he did not let go until he knew the man was dead. He did not want the others to wake. Once the watch was dealt with, he turned to the others, repeating the same. Surprisingly, no one was alerted. Once the other woman was killed, the weeping monk turned to the fey hooded woman and the boy. They slept blissfully, both looking innocent in sleep. Carefully steeping around the bodies, he reached her and squatted at her side, careful not to wake her. He reached out, caressing a stray hair that had escaped her hood. His fingers lingered just above the soft skin of her cheek; a mockery of a lovers caress he dared not give lest she wake. He would not kill her. He now knew why she interested him. What drew him to her. And so, he decided to leave her a message. She was his. their dance was starting. A gentle smirk graced his face. Then he moved. He did not want to be here when she woke.<br/>…………<br/>Eleesia woke abruptly. She was not sure why, but she knew something was wrong. When she sat up and looked around, she knew why. The monk was gone. All that was left of him was the rope that secured him littering the ground where he laid. The bodies of the other adult fey were dead, laying in parodies of sleep with their throats slit. All except drim whose face showed surprise. She looked to her side, and saw squirrel, still curled up with his back to her. His back rose and fell in the comfort of sleep. Eleesia stood quickly, looking around and extending her senses. He was gone. A lily drifted lazily off her, distracting her from her thoughts, falling to the floor at her feet. She squatted, picked it up and looked at it. It was pristine, and around the stem was wrapped a small torn piece of grey cloth. It was a message just for her. She did not know what it meant. She knew it was from him. Damn, she thought. She knew he had been to forthcoming to her wishes. But she did not know why he didn’t kill her or squirrel. Not unless he too remembered. But that would be a miracle if she were right about his identity. There were similarities in his face. Puzzled she tucked the lily into her bag and shook squirrel awake. Making sure he did not see the scene, she quickly moved him from the camp. It was time to go.</p><p>If Eleesia or squirrel had of looked behind them, they would have seen him move into the open, his intense blue weeping eyes watching them leave the camp, from his hood.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Days later, Eleesia still contemplated the words whispered on the wind after the failed capture of the monk.<br/>‘You tell your fae brethren what you saw here, tell them i’m coming, go’. She could still hear his voice in her head, and it sent shivers down her spine. She let the memory go and looked around her. They had spotted fey symbols in their travels, informing them of a safe place for fae. They had followed them for a while. Squirrel had told Eleesia about his village, how he was supposed to wait for Nimue, how worried he was for her. They were close, Eleesia could tell. That had encouraged the deep thoughts. Squirrel had someone, she had no one. She could not let this child grow alone, not like she had. <br/>‘I will find her for you.’ She had promised him. ‘but not until I get you to safety.’ Squirrel had accepted this and travelled quietly with Eleesia. However, squirrel had something else on his mind. His constant fidgeting had alerted Eleesia to that fact.<br/>‘out with it’ she said several hours later, his constant fidgeting getting on her nerves.<br/>‘the weeping monk, you know him?’ his question lingered in the air. Eleesia took a few moments to ponder the accuracy of it.<br/>‘I did once’. Her voice but a low whisper carrying on the light breeze. Squirrel looked around before gaining the bravery to ask what he truly wanted to know.<br/>‘he’s the Lancelot from your story, the one you loved.’ Eleesia did not say anything, but she had slightly stiffened. It was enough that squirrel noticed. However, the surety in his voice pulled a reluctant smile from Eleesia.<br/>‘I though as much.’ He intoned. She gave him a light snort, her voice carrying a heavy dose of caution.<br/>‘you shouldn’t assume Squirrel. It will get you into trouble.’ Squirrel turned to her slightly, his eyes squinting.<br/>‘he is, though isn’t he?’ that was a query, not so sure of himself. Eleesia glanced down at squirrel before returning her watching gaze to their surroundings. Her voice was monotoned as she answered him.<br/>‘he was one of the ones I couldn’t save’.  squirrel hesitated for but a moment and turned back to the trail ahead. He had strong suspicions that the weeping monk was this Lancelot she had once loved. He inability to kill him gave away that he was someone close to her. The fact that the weeping monk had not killed her was not lost on squirrel. He knew if she were any other person, he would have killed her with no remorse as he had the others. But he had not. that intrigued squirrel. However, it still left him with another question he was dying to have an answer too. Eleesia sighed in exasperation. Squirrel was just too curious for his own good. And he saw far too much.<br/>‘what?’ she intoned. Squirrel took a few moments, looking at his fingers before answering her. <br/>‘he’s from the ash folk, isn’t he? you know the ones in the stories?’ Eleesia let out a slow long breath.<br/>‘yeah he is.”<br/>………<br/>It had been quite a few hours since their last conversation, and they had been able to travel unmolested.  Eleesia decided squirrel should be safe to continue without her. She advised him to reach the haven. She would turn back and find his Nimue. She got all the information and descriptions of her from squirrel as she could. Hopefully, it was enough. She watched as squirrel continued foot towards the direction of the haven. She did not know where to look. She had assumed the closest town to the destroyed fae village would be too dangerous for the girl to hide. Yet that is where Eleesia ventured too. If anything, she could ear drop, perhaps find more information. But she needed to fool everyone, should anyone discover what she was, she would become hunted, and that would make things harder. Stopping momentarily, Eleesia wound her hair up into a style reminiscent of the human blood women. She pulled a scarf from her bag, and covered her head keeping her face uncovered, winding the ends about her shoulders. She had no facial markings visible unless she spoke to the hidden or used her magic. She should make do. It was the one distinguishing feature between fae and human, fae wore their hair free. After Eleesia was ready, she started off. It would be along journey. She would look for a horse. She has some coins on her. It would make for faster travel.<br/>…….<br/>Eleesia managed to make it to gramaire. She was tired, dirty, and weary. She watched from a distance discreetly as red paladins accompanied the town guard inspecting people and carts accessing the city. This peaked Eleesia’s curiosity. They were looking for something, fae at least but Eleesia thought it was more specific then that. She realised then, to get into the city she would have to get creative. So, she turned her sights to the wagons and people. Just then, a group of people trudged by her. She quickly integrated herself to the back of the group and trudged with them. The leader, who was tired, not realising she was not one of them, ushered her to catch up and stay close to the group. She did as she was bid, and within moments thanks to the helpful man blood, had safely passed into the city. She roamed around, listening to people talk and garnered several things. The main conversation though caught her attention. The description of a girl, they called the wolf blood, which was interesting, more so the bounty on her head. What was even more interesting, was the fae girl was heralded from dewdenn, where squirrel had come from. If it was not the girl Eleesia was trying to find, then at least this girl might be able to help her. Then again, this girl could do with her help. Eleesia could at least get her out of town and send her on her way to the haven. With that thought in mind, Eleesia kept investigating the town. She had soon learned that the girl in question had been here. She had cut off a mercenary’s hand. After that she had fled with a man. Eleesia was able to ascertain which direction the couple had gone, and after purchasing a horse, managed to make it out of the city and head in the same direction they went. Eleesia did not find them. However, after roaming for a while, she stumbled across what appeared to be a burnt-out abbey. Curious, she ventured through the remains to look. By the smell, she surmised this had not happened long ago. And some of the ashes of the abbey held the slightest of warmth. Eleesia looked around the grounds, too the trees and scrutinised everything around her. She did not see any movement. Did not see any life. She continued to look through the remains until she stumbled on a gruesome sight…... bodies…. burnt bodies located in an area which could have been the entrance. At the visual before her, Eleesia felt sick, so much so that she hurried away and was sick on the grass. This was not the paladin’s usual thing. These people here were as much god loving as them. This was something else. She had enough. Eleesia moved to her horse, mounted, and looked around again. She did not know what to do from here. She decided to head towards the haven. Hopefully, the couple had heard of it and headed that way. She hoped for squirrel’s sake, the girl was still alive.<br/>…….<br/>After finding the haven, exchanging greetings and sayings, Eleesia entered. She looked around, hoping to see squirrel, and perhaps find somewhere out of the way to bed down for some rest. She wound through the maze, past her kin, fascinated by the varieties but also saddened there was not as many as she had hoped. She passed under a wooden arch created from tree roots into a vast room filled with people. They were talking, some merrily to someone on the other side. She squinted her eyes, and cautiously walked forward to see who had the attention of most of the fae. She spotted a young woman, with long light brown hair and a blue dress. However, it was who was beside her that caught Eleesia’s attention and was a most welcome sight. <br/>‘Squirrel’ she said joyfully. Squirrel’s head whipped around and upon spotting her, grinned widely and ran to her.<br/>‘Eleesia’. He stopped short in front of her and they hugged. Then he started talking, informing her his friend had found her way there, pointed her out. He did not give Eleesia much time to speak, as he barraged her with constant questions and conversation. However, it was a much deeper male voice that halted speech and causing her to refocus.<br/>‘Eleesia?’ her eyes found him, an old friend who had helped her in her travels. She grinned widely at him and took the steps to return the embrace he offered.<br/>‘Gawain, it’s good to see you my friend’. As soon as her words left her lips, a hush fell over the room, as everyone’s attention was pulled to her and Gawain.<br/>‘it’s been too long sweetheart’ he answered.<br/>‘yes, it has. How have you been?’<br/>He looked at her for a minute and pulled her to the area he was in before. Her offered her a seat, a heavy sigh gushing out of him. Looking at him questioningly, Eleesia casually questioned him.<br/>‘that good huh?’. Rubbing his chin, Gawain launched into the story of his travels, crossing paths with the paladins, and the constant battles he engaged in. she listened silently, her gaze never leaving his face, reading his body language, hearing the words he did not speak, understanding things were more dire then he had let on. Afterwards, she nodded, her gaze thoughtfully looking down. Gawain spoke to her again.<br/>‘squirrel told me of you, how you helped to capture the weeping monk, yours and his miraculous escape. I thank you Eleesia. It truly means much. But I worry for you now my friend. You’re in his sights now.’ Gawain’s worry filtered through his voice, and she looked up at him, her eyes intense, her face expressionless.<br/>‘how much did he tell you?’ she asked. There were things said, she was not sure if squirrel had completely understood the past dynamics between her and the weeping one. Gawain’s eyes pierced hers, and she knew then that squirrel understood too much, had filled in the gaps, and had told Gawain his suspicions, his thoughts. Eleesia looked away and suddenly stood, taking a few steps from the group. Eyes followed her, if possible, it got quieter. Gawain stood, approaching her from behind. He placed his hand lightly on her shoulder.<br/>‘is it true? Is squirrel right?’ tears glistened in Eleesia’s eyes. For the young man she had loved, for the man they created from him, for the betrayal she felt she had committed to her kin. She dropped her head.<br/>‘yes….’ Her whisper carried through the room. After quiet murmurs started up, Eleesia realised then that most of her kin, if not all, now knew her story, her vow, her self-imposed mission, and who she had become. She did not see Gawain’s sure nod, only the absence of his touch on her shoulder, she didn’t see Nimule’s saddened look. However, she did see Squirrel come to stand in front of her, looking up into her face.<br/>‘I’m with you. Ill help you. We’ll bring him home El’. The boy’s enthusiasm engulfed Eleesia, uplifting her emotions. Incredibly thankful for such a thoughtful and beautiful offer, Eleesia hugged Squirrel to her for a moment, whispering a thank you into his ears. Something about this boy just seemed to get to a person. It was like he would find the smallest crack in someone’s armour and worm his way in. letting him go, she smiled gently at him and turned to face the others.<br/>‘it’s my burden to bear and bear it I will until I complete it or meet deaths embrace. However, if you worry for my loyalty, I can assure you my friend, the safety of my kin is paramount, my people come first.’ Her words broke the tension that had begun mounting in the room, and Gawain smiled understandingly at Eleesia.<br/>‘I never questioned your loyalty, but I do worry of your fate.’ Answered Gawain, taking her hand in between hers. There were never any romantic notions between them. They had been close friends, the kind that were easy with each other. Gawain understood Eleesia like no other, and she had accepted him just as unconditionally in return. Although she never knew his origins, she knew his heart. He loved all his people, he survived for them, fought for them, bled for them. They had found kindred spirits within each other. And for this, Eleesia felt blessed. Gawain broke the contact and changed the conversation. He motioned Eleesia to Nimue, his hand comfortable settled at the small of Eleesia’s back. <br/>‘I want you to meet someone else incredibly important to me. A sister if you will. She is from my village. Eleesia meet Nimue.’ Gawain introduced. Eleesia greeted Nimue, sensing something different about the fae woman. However, what was astonishing to Eleesia, was the words Gawain never really said. He was from the same village as the young woman. She was sky folk. She had never asked, and he had never told her. They had never discussed where they hailed from or who their clans were. They just accepted each other was fae and understood that alone was enough. Her astonishment showed as she turned to Gawain.<br/>‘you’re sky folk? Huh, never picked that’. Gawain grinned at her. He was proud of who he was. bye he too was curious of her clan and so he asked her, gaining a partial reply in return.<br/>‘my mother was sky folk, abandoned her village for another.’ Everyone noticed she had never answered her full parentage. Gawain looked at Eleesia closely. <br/>‘then we are kin at least by your mother’s side’. He confirmed. A slight smile appeared on Eleesia’s face. However, she had felt the weight of everyone’s questioning gaze. They were not fooled Eleesia hadn’t answered about her full parentage. Gawain’s low voice graced her ears in question.</p><p>‘your father?<br/>She hesitated briefly, her eyes flickering quickly to squirrel. <br/>‘ash folk’.<br/>Mutters of astonishment and shock echoed around the room, ash folk were a legend. They hadn’t been seen in the lands for centuries, yet the fae woman in front of her had laid claim to the clan.<br/>‘how, they haven’t been seen in centuries’ uttered Gawain astounded, echoing everyone’s thoughts. Eleesia looked Gawain dead in the eye. They had to know; ash folk had survived.<br/>‘my clan has been……. Hiding, I suppose. A threat to all other clans….’ her voice trailed off. Gawain tilted his head.<br/>‘you do not bear the marks. Again, a ghost of a smile reached Eleesia’s lips. A slight breeze played with the ends of her hair, gently tossing them into the air. Nimue shuffled as she heard the ethereal voices of the hidden lightly around her. Her eyes were drawn inexplicably to Eleesia, watching ghostly white leaves of airimid climbed slowly up the sides of Eleesia’s neck, and the palest silver marks of weeping tears formed beneath Eleesia’s eyes. They all gasped, shocked watching as Eleesia’s eyes turned even more bluer, the colour almost like liquid.<br/>‘I hail from two clans. I possess the attributes of both, yet some of those attributes differ slightly. I have the marks of both, although for some reason they don’t show unless I will it.’ Gawain studied the marks, as they slowly disappeared. He nodded slowly, taking in the information Eleesia willingly offered him.<br/>‘why didn’t you tell me?’<br/>‘you never asked’. His eyes sharpened on her. Then he nodded, thinking for a moment.<br/>‘it answers a few questions.’ He stated. In that moment, the shock wore off squirrel, his voice, sure and strong reached Eleesia’s ears.<br/>‘I understand now.’ Several pairs of eyes turned towards the boy, all but one showing puzzlement. Before he could be asked, squirrel smiled, turned, and scampered off, leaving Eleesia to watch him go, while the others turned towards her. She knew then any knowledge of her secret, of her desires, hadn’t been shared. squirrel it seemed had kept some information to himself and would until it was dire. She knew the little rascal knew more then she intended, had indeed made correct assumptions although she refused to confirm them. She would keep him guessing, but for now, certain information he had not shared, he had decided to keep to himself. That was a blessing Eleesia was grateful for. But she knew beyond a doubt, that blessing wouldn’t last long. Secrets had a very bad habit of coming undone, she could feel tremors of warnings lingering on her nerves from the faint murmurs of the hidden. <br/>‘what does he mean?’ Nimue asked Eleesia.<br/>‘just an insignificant conversation we had earlier, my answers didn’t seem make much sense to him’. Eleesia replied, glancing to Nimue before turning to Gawain. However, his face showed many suspicions, and Eleesia could slowly see Gawain’s mind turning over all the information he had been given. She knew then, he was starting to put the pieces together, and before long, the missing pieces of information would give him a precise clear picture. It was then Eleesia knew he would never get that information from her. And with squirrel’s ability to squirm underneath her guard, she would have to be very careful with her words to him. Her eyes focused back of Gawain’s and look of slight revelation lit their depths. He needed his suspicions confirmed; however, he knew Eleesia wouldn’t be forth coming. She would not confirm what he was beginning to see. His knowing gaze held hers for a moment and his slight nod was returned. They both knew it was a matter of time.<br/>‘come sister, things are dire, we have need of your advice and help.’ His acceptance of the situation warned Eleesia. He would let it drop, but he would still search for the answers he sought. He knew there was something she was keeping from them. So, with a change of subject, he led her away to discuss the newest developments of the madness the paladins had dumped them in. <br/>Eleesia herself felt unsettled. For a moment, the hidden flared, catching her attention. Nimue eyes turned to Eleesia, her face a mixture of confusion and suspicion. Eleesia caught herself, a slight mis step due to the warning. Her eyes met Nimue’s briefly, before she followed Gawain more surely. The warning was clear. Something was coming that would expose everything. She wasn’t sure the fae would be quiet as accepting of her as they seemed now. She could only hope, that when that revelation hit, that some of her kin would offer aid.</p><p>He would never die from her hand. She had never stopped loving him.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a few weeks since Eleesia had re-joined her kin. She had gotten to know quiet a few people, had been relatively included into Nimue’s sphere of people. Eleesia though had kept to herself, listening to the news bought in, her mind constantly moving. She knew they were all being hunted, and she knew Gawain and some of the others constantly went out. She didn’t go with him, she after all had other plans. She had decided, if the whispering monk were going to hunt them, she in turn would hunt him. Only she had no intentions on killing him. However, she had to lose squirrel. He had decided to keep close to Eleesia. She wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to be, or because he was drawn to the monk and therefore to her. Still, she had a plan and now she intended to implement it. <br/>……<br/>Eleesia had managed to lose squirrel and leave the haven quickly without being spotted. She had left a message, a message that would be delayed enough so no one could follow. She had heard the weeping monk had been picking off the caravans that dared to help them, so in turn she knew roughly where he could be, and where she might catch up to him. She turned her horse the direction she needed to go. First, she would find a safe place to leave her horse. She had no illusions she was in for a long wait and needed to move on foot to do what she needed. She wasn’t sure if she could catch her quarry, however to bring him home, she intended to make sure he remembered their past, that he would be reminded of it frequently enough that hopefully, the memories, the feelings, might just help break the hold those paladin scum had over him. She intended to initiate a dance with the monk, and for now, she would lead.<br/>………….<br/>It took awhile for Eleesia to find the road the caravans took. She had managed to find a caravan that the monk had yet to find. Eleesia made sure to warn them. She had no desire to see them hurt and had given them advice so that they didn’t meet their deaths. She had ridden the way they had come, looking for vantage points in which she could enact her plan should he walk into it. She found a nice area, just before a turn, lined either side by mossy covered rocks, and an abundance of ferns and greenery. There was plenty of shade by the overhead leafy canopy, and the floor was littered with the colours of autumn leaves. Eleesia led her horse into the area, finding a secure clear site a fair distance back. Her horse would be hidden, and no one from the road could see or hear him. There was enough mossy rocks and vegetation to give her cover should she need to make that mad dash to her horse she was expecting. Satisfied, Eleesia pulled out of the saddlebag, a greenish well-worn cloak. It should help camouflage her until she was ready to initiate the contact. She pulled her sword belt into place and checked her long leather vest was secured properly. Her hair, she left down except some side pieces so it wouldn’t get into her eyes. It was the style she used to wear when she first met him, she hoped this would spare the first recognition. Yet she did not know he had already recognised her. Still it was all apart of her plan. Once she was done, she returned to the side of the road, hunching down, and hiding between rocks and vegetation, waiting for him. It could be a fool’s errand, but she was starting to see patterns to what he did, and this pattern had yet to be completed. Not all the caravans were eliminated. It was going to be a long wait.<br/>…………<br/>It had been a few days, and Eleesia was doubting herself. She had seen no sign and had seen another caravan go through. She had pulled them up, warning them and giving them the same advice of the others. They had thanked her as they left, and now a few hours later, she sat cradled in her hiding spot waiting. Suddenly she heard hooves. There was a rider coming. Slowly too, it sounded by the regular unhurried plods that the rider was ambling along. She peaked out, looking into the other direction of the bend where the sounds were coming from. She waited. Her plans suddenly looked like they were going to come to fruition, because there came her quarry. She grinned. Time to dance. Eleesia moved to the top of the bend, scrambling out and into position. The bend was gradual so it would take but a few moments before her saw her. She stood in the middle of the road, her cloak on and her hood down. She wanted him to see her face. She waited. As soon as he started to round the bend, he spotted her and stopped. They stood staring at each other, him still as a statue. Her poised if need be to run. Slowly a devilish grin graced her features, taunting him. Calling to the hidden, she asked them to let her quiet whisper carry her words to him.<br/>‘let us dance you and I.’ with that she abruptly turned and took off, running fast through the foliage. She heard his horse start after her, and then after a few moments, his feet hit the ground, tearing after her. She had found another site a few days ago, just slightly to the side of where she left her horse. The site would allow her to play cat and mouse with him, hopefully enabling her to keep him away from her, but close enough to taught him. They crashed through the foliage, his stride eating up the distance between them. But she managed to stay enough ahead. She reached the site, crossing and swinging around a boulder. It wouldn’t hide her, but that wasn’t the point. It would keep distance between them. The monk exploded into the site, stopping again when he saw her. They waited, each waiting to see what the other would do. Then slowly, his hand upon the pommel of his sword, he turned, walking around the obstructions in his path. She countered him, keeping boulders and tree stumps between them, her steps matching his. His head turned, his hood shadowing his face, towards her, measuring her, watching her intently. Eleesia let her amusement show through, another taunting grin lining her face. His head turned back ahead. His husky voice broke the silence.<br/>‘I did not know what you were’ she acknowledged his statement with a Humm.<br/>‘what you are too’ her words caused him to stiffen. It was obvious to her that he had been taught, tortured to deny that side of him, except to utilise his skills. They kept circling each other, Eleesia watching him closely, trying to read his body language. The monk, alternated, scrutinising the environment, and watching her closely. He recognised her. The memories already starting to well within his mind of a life from long ago. He was curious, and the feelings he once held for her rose and taunted him. Yet he tried to push them down, to ignore them. They mattered not. Yet he was puzzled. He always cut down his prey. Without question, without hesitation. But here, with her, he had no desire to adhere to his teachings. He didn’t quiet see her as his enemy. Just something else. He allowed his senses to roam, sensing her, reading her body language, scenting her. Something inside of him twisted with familiarity and heat. It hit him deeply, everything she was, he was taught to kill. But his memories, they washed over him, everything about her, calling to him. He was a mess of confusion, frustration but he never once let it show. He was conditioned, disciplined to only let the weapon he had become shine through. His eyes sought her out again, her movements like his were precise, not wasted. She was all grace and allure, yet she did not force it. It was as natural to her as breathing. Her eyes held secrets, beseeched him, yet promised him things he did not want to admit he was curious and possibly interested in. she looked seemingly relaxed, yet small things about her body betrayed her and he knew should she felt the need, she would act immediately. she would captivate him if he let her. Possibly was starting too. Watching her closer still, he waited, his entire body poised to strike. And then it happened. She mis stepped, stumbled. Immediately he acted, and within seconds, was in front of her, his knife at her neck.<br/>She knew she had royally screwed up; she had not been paying proper attention, did not see the slight protrusion in the ground and had stumbled. He had acted swiftly, too fast for her to track, and she felt the moment his body connected with hers roughly, pushing her back into the tree behind her. His knife laid against her throat, cool and threatening. His body had pinned hers, from chest to groin, his leg pushed roughly between her thighs and his hands had secured both her wrists above her head. She hissed as the pain of her back hit the tree, and tilted her head up towards his, her chin away from the knife. Her eyes found his in the shadows of his hood and she stilled. He was silent, scrutinising her, waiting. Feelings of desolation that she had screwed her only chance filled her. He was everything to her once. Although he was a different person now, she still loved him. He had the capability of becoming the fey he should have been. She could see it. She promised she would find him, save him. She had every intention of doing that. But in front her, stood the paladins weapon. The cold blood killer he is. Eleesia couldn’t deny, with the situation she was in, that her body had taken notice and had started to betray her. A tiny thrill of deadly anticipation of some much darker desires coursed through her body. Her breasts felt heavy, and a dampness pervaded the space between her thighs. And yet she felt tinges of unease and alarm skitter through her.<br/>He noticed. He could sense it, smell her desire on her. Smell her caution dosed with a slight hint of panic. Of course, he could. Her scent tantalised him, his satisfaction of the hint of panic lingering within him. Although her scent had changed subtly now, she was older, it was till the same. It was still familiar enough. It taunted him. He drew in slowly, deeply, allowing it to fill him up, and the memories to momentarily overwhelm him. He remembered how it felt that night she had given herself to him, her heat surrounding him. Her voice filling him, telling him she would be the first blood he spilt. Her eyes promising him satisfaction not just of pleasure, but of the very teachings they sought to ground into him, would be filled in a different way. His eyes flickered. He looked at her face, his eyes tracing the older but familiar contours, allowing himself to acknowledge that she had grown into a beauty, ethereal in her delicateness, but no less a threat. She was everything he had lost himself in when she had found him and tended to him when he was younger. She was his light, the light that had gone out when they had raided the last camp, when he broke. She was everything he was taught to kill, to erase off gods earth. Taught to hate. He should have been conflicted. But resolve hardened his features. She had reached him first, when he needed someone most, she was there. She had risked her life for him, he had indeed thought her dead. They had told him that. Anger simmered deep inside of him. They lied to him. They had realised their error, the reason why his training hadn’t quiet taken. They had used that to break him. Moved him so that she would never find him and undo what they had done, so they would never know they had failed, and she had survived. Afraid they would fight him. Afraid he would escape and find her. Something deep inside of him spoke, she was his, she was first. He wouldn’t betray her by taking her very life. Because she had returned. Years later, years too late. She had promised she would come for him. In that moment, it didn’t matter to him that it was too late. What mattered, is out of everyone around him, she had followed through on her promise. He was resolved, her life would not end, not by his hand, not by paladins either. However, she wanted to dance, she wanted something from him, taunted him. She started this game. He would play, but only by his terms. His drew his face closer to hers, his eyes boring into hers, his breath gently caressing her lips. His resolve became something darker, his resolve to her became his intention.<br/>‘it’s too late.’ Instantly she had realised what he meant. He saw that on her face. Her features turned blank, her eyes clear and open to his. <br/>‘its never too late.’ Her statement was bold and was said with a quiet confidence that resonated strongly inside him. She firmly believed that. <br/>‘i’m not him anymore.’ He warned her. Again, she returned a rejoinder.<br/>‘you don’t need to be.’ He peered closer. Could see he was not the child she thought to save, but a male she was drawn too.<br/>‘I could kill you’. His lips brushed hers fleetingly, barely there.<br/>‘but you won’t.’ She stayed very still. Watching. Waiting. They stared into each other’s eyes. He pulled back fractionally. Slowly, he pressed his knife a little harder against the skin of her neck, just enough to break the skin. Small amounts of blood welled up under the blade, only to tip over and slide down the skin of her neck in a caress. He watched it, was mesmerized. Her slight indrawn breath broke his fascination and drew her eyes again to hers.<br/>‘you won’t’. Her whispered words surrounded him, sunk into him. His lips parted seemingly of their own accord. His eyes momentarily flickered to her lips before returning to her eyes. So as not to startle her, the whispering monk slowly removed the blade, returning it to its place on his belt. His hand sought out the base of her neck, just below the thin cut, resting on her collar bone for but a moment. They watched each other, tension swirling in their bodies, feeling the expectation of something about to happen. The monks head lowered to hers slowly, his mouth so close to hers in a parody of a kiss, both their eyes lowering, her closing completely. He felt her shiver, grinned at how responsive she was to him. She was caught in his net, he only had to draw her in. his hand rose to caress the long soft curl resting on her shoulder, winding it lightly around his wrist.<br/>‘mine’ his lips lightly caressing hers, little butterfly wings against skin. She acknowledged the word, accepted it. He felt it. He felt her willing submission to his claim and a small smirk tilted the side of his mouth. Her lightly whispered words broke through the moment, adding to the heightened atmosphere around them, a promise he felt deep within his bones. They caressed him, beckoned to him and they were undeniable.<br/>‘I will never stop looking for you. I will always find you. I will take you from them. I will save you.’<br/>‘why?’ his gravelly whisper surrounded her.<br/>‘you are my everything’<br/> those words did more then she realised. In truth, they came deep from her soul, and touched his. They caught him, taunted him, lured him in, spurned a deep part of him to rise and take over his body. His lips sealed over hers, taking her bottom lip between his. It was only a quick kiss, but it was deep, dark, lingering. It was a confirmation, an acknowledgement, an acceptance, a promise. It was heat and responsiveness, seductive yet pure……. It was honest. With a slight tug on the curl her had captured, he was gone, the kiss, his touch, the lingering heat of his body vanishing. Eleesia opened her eyes, he was nowhere to be found, gone, as though he had never graced the site. She was shaken by him, his kiss. She expected him to kill her, welcomed it even. She would rather die by his hand then a paladin. But he had done the opposite. His taste lingered on her lips, the residual heat of his body and scent clung to her. His touch on her wrists felt imprinted. Her heart ached, her memories welling up. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she did not let them fall. Her breath rushed in and out of her shakily and she drew her hands through her hair. This game of theirs, the rules had just changed. She cupped her hands over her face. It was about to become so much darker, seductive, and very possibly dangerous. She thought back to her whispered promise to him. And she realised then, she would do exactly as she promised. There had always been and undeniable pull between them. A strong attraction even back then. It’s what prompted her to act, to offer him a most precious gift, her virginity. But now, there was a very strong undeniable lure there. He was everything she should be running from. Tall, dark, lethal, sinful, alluring. And that was the kicker. The darkness inside him, they had created, they had cultivated in him, called to her like a moth to the flame. The lethal killer in him, called to the fighter in her. The sinful grace and movements of his body, tantalised her, the lure of fae, of being connected by species, a song to her senses. The very essence of him beckoned her. She had to hope with all that she was, that she could do this. They now stood to lose much more then before. Should she fail, she was not so sure she would embrace death. Realisation of the situation showed her several things. She knew this was no dance. And despite her initiating it, she was not leading it. This was a game. He was the predator, but she so sure she was his prey as such. In fact, she wasn’t exactly too sure what she was. She had already assented to the knowledge of being his. He had shown her he wouldn’t kill her. She knew one thing though, he would play with her, to what extent and how would be another thing. He knew she felt for him. He knew she was completely responsive to him physically, sexually even. His sensuality lit the fires of desire within her. He had sensed that, and her attraction to him, strong as it was. But was she his, to keep and protect, to love? Or was she his to play with, to capture, to torture, to twist around until she was like him or until she submitted so completely to his whims? Dark shivers rattled down her spine, her arms crossing her chest as though cold. She spurred herself into action, walking quickly to her horse, as though she felt something dangerous stalking her. Regardless, she would continue as promised. But she was very aware, Things had just got much darker and dangerous between them. </p><p>And she wasn’t sure she would survive them.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Days later revealed several caravans despite their warnings had been hit. The death toll of their people was growing. Eleesia along with several others, risked their lives to go on regular patrols to try to find others of their kind fleeing the carnage. On this particular day, Eleesia had stumbled onto a heartbreaking visage. She had found bodies, long gone cold and knew the paladins were upping their game. Her heart wept for the lost souls that would never again enjoy the little things their kind loved. She had taken hours to gather the bodies together, praying to the hidden to take the dead back into the ground, and so the vegetation around her reclaimed the dead, returning their bodies to the earth. She was shattered. Day turned to night, and Eleesia made camp, a way off the road in a hidden dip in the earth. It was deep enough and surrounded by enough stones, that she and her little fire would hopefully stay hidden. Her horse was tied to a tree not far away, and she herself had laid in front of the fire. On her back, half reclined against an old log she had manage to carry in, she stretched her legs out in front of her. She watched the flames, her hood gone for now. She tried not to think of the carnage she had seen. She was weary, and the death of so many wore her down. Her sword laid by her side still sheathed, and she smoothed her mid-thigh length leather vest down her body. Stilling, she allowed the crackle of the flame to mesmerise her, and the soft sounds of the forest lull her to sleep. Her dreams beckoned her, of a boy with weeping tear marks beneath his eyes, lit with joy as his lips moved with the words of a promise they had once shared, followed her into a deeper sleep.<br/>………<br/>She hadn’t known he was there. He was far away enough she didn’t sense him or see him. He was carrying out his orders to track the caravans, to neutralise them. He had been inspecting the ground slightly off the road when movement in the distance out of the corner of his eye captured his attention. He had stilled and turned his head slowly towards it, to see her. She had appeared out of the forest, crossed the road, and disappeared into the other side, without so much as spotting him. Memories of their previous meeting rose within his mind’s eye and he knew the possibility finding her unaware again would be slim. That decided it. He rose after she left, took goliaths reins, and walked to were she had disappeared. He was unconcerned about loosing her. After all, the paladins taught him to track, and he did it so very well. Reaching where she had been, he squatted down, running his hand lightly over the horses tracks, studying them and grinned with glee. Committing them to memory, for now he knew how to determine if her horse had been there, he followed slowly. Shortly after entering the forest, he tied goliath to a tree, reassuring him before once again tracking her. <br/>………..<br/>He watched her, hidden in the darkness the fire didn’t reach. Had been there for a while watching her sleep. Watching how her gentle breaths rose and fell in her chest. His eyes caressed her from the rich brown of her long locks sprawled in wild abandon, down the leather that outlined her curves, down her legs encased lovingly by the material to her tall boots. She was so completely relaxed in sleep, a beautiful angel in repose. She looked so innocent, so untouched from the world, so impervious to danger. Her guard was completely down. The anticipation of what he was about to do filled him, and a dark carnal grin touched his lips. It was his move. He moved silently and swiftly. He did not want her to wake until he was ready for her. Moving his swords out of the way, he very carefully knelt over her, his legs bracing him on either side of her thighs. His cloak draped over her legs, the edge catching her foot. He felt her twitch, watched her face, and saw she was coming to. He held his breath. She was stunning, but He had to act quick lest he lose his advantage.<br/>………..<br/>She felt the slight tug on her foot, the feeling out of context of the dream that bewitched her asleep and lulled her senses. it was unusual enough to rouse her from her sleep. Coming to she extended her senses, hearing first. She didn’t hear anything. Still something didn’t feel right. Her head straightened up, and she sought to try shift her back to find a slightly more comfortable position. It was in that moment she sensed someone. Close. Very close. Her eyebrows furrowed and she opened her eyes to take in her little campfire. What met her sight had her reflexes acting. Unfortunately for her, it was not quick enough. Within seconds, her hands were clamped by a bigger hand above her head. She gasped, her back arching with it, her eyes widening as the very face of the man she had dreamt of knelt over her. A carnal grin graced his lips, his eyes twinkling in dark mischief and admiration of what he saw underneath him. She bent her legs to dislodge him, but her attempt failed as his weight bared down enough on her thighs to stop her. His other hand came to her face, and she stilled, wary of the action. His fingers touch her cheek briefly before travelling to cup the side of her jaw. Her eyes were caught by his. His grin left his lips, his lips parting as he watched his hand on her face entranced. His thumb moved to caress the side of her bottom lip gently as if mapping it. She shivered, his subtle touch reaching something deep inside her. All fight in her left her in that moment. Her body went boneless, relaxing against the feel of his. Feeling this is eyes met hers again, capturing her, captivating her. He felt a sense of masculine pride that her body recognised him, reacted so trustingly to him. His body too reacted to her, his siren luring him in. His grip was strong, but soft so as not to hurt her, but merely restrain her. His full weight did not rest completely on her, just enough to still her, for she was his willing quarry. He could feel his blood heat, could feel her underneath him and it was seductive. He yearned for more. He hoped it would always be this way for them. He had thought of little else but her in the darkest hours of the night when he was supposed to be sleeping. Memories of her kept him company in his lonely travels, when following the orders of Carden. And now, knowing it would be a rare thing, she was completely at his mercy, had given him a rare gift of catching her so completely off guard. He had no illusions this would happen again. He had intentionally taught her a valuable lesson. Still he waited, watching curiosity fill her gaze. The wariness she afforded him was still there. But she waited to see what his next move would be. His hand on her face shifted, tracing the curve of her jaw, down the expanse of her neck. The soft skin tantalised the nerves of his fingers until they met her leather clad shoulder. Still, he steered his hand down, skimming the side of her breast, watching her face for an indication of any unwanted reaction. react she did, positively delighting him as her body betrayed her need, he had provoked. A harsh indrawn breath filled her lungs, her body rising to fill his hand with her breast more fully. Her eyes flickered with pleasure. Quickly taking advantage, he lent down, stopping just shy of the skin of her neck, his nose barely touching her. He drew her scent in deep, his eyes closing blissfully, allowing it to fill him up and overwhelm him. Allowing himself to take pleasure in this one simple act she afforded him. She smelled of seduction, of comfort and sensuality. She smelt of …… home, a feeling he had not felt since a boy. She was barely breathing, short breaths leaving her parted lips, staying subdued. She could feel him, his chest to his groin gently resting against hers as he breathed in her essence. her eyes closed, lost to the sensation of him. Tranquillity flooded her, as delicious as the fervour that roared through her veins. A moan escaped her as his tongue and lips descended to taste her skin, opening her neck to encourage his exploration more. Her back arched, and in that moment, she was so completely lost to him. She felt his smirk brush against her neck. Within moments, a blur of action really, he was squatting in front of her, sitting her up with both her wrists still in his grasp. His suddenly expressionless eyes bore into hers and confusion welled within her.<br/>‘you have no idea of the danger you have put yourself in’ his grave tone, lit with a soft anger found their mark. All thoughts and feelings she had felt a moment ago cleared from her mind regretfully, and she looked at him with anger.<br/>‘am I to die then?’ his exasperation was swift as he looked away from her momentarily. Looking back at her, he carried on.<br/>‘not by me. You already know this. You leave yourself unprotected. Were I anyone else….’ his words trailed off and Eleesia suddenly felt bad? He was right. She hadn’t felt him, had let herself become to complacent. Her earlier weariness and sadness of death threatened to swamp her. Her eyes locked with his, accusation within their depths.<br/>‘you killed them, those of our kind.’ He didn’t deny it.<br/>‘it’s what I do.’ His tone was sure, his words cutting straight to her heart. So, he was still the puppet then. She had hoped she had started the change. Un beknown to her, she had, but she did not know that.<br/>‘why, its not who you are.’ She beseeched him. And yet she didn’t want to hear the words he gave to her next.<br/>‘do not profess to know who I am. I warned you.’ With that he yanked her up hard onto her feet, rope appearing as if magic in his hand as he started to tie her wrists together. Eleesia was having none of it. She fought him hard, trying to release her wrists from his increasingly strong hold. He was too strong for her and seemed to anticipate this part of her nature. Suddenly he lurched forward, his foot hooking behind hers, guiding them both down to the forest floor. He straddled her again, his hips keeping hers down as he finished securing her wrists. She couldn’t help it, her cooling ardour reanimated within her. <br/>‘what are you doing?’ she gasped. She tried unsuccessfully to thwart him. He ignored her, once again bringing her to her feet. He smothered her fire with dirt and pulled her along to her horse. Gathering the reins of her horse, he pulled them both along, unfazed by her half-hearted struggles until they had re-joined goliath. With a harsh tug, she crashed into his chest. He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other securing the side of her face before his lips crashed down onto hers. His intensity was tremendous and engulfed her. In response she gasped, allowing his tongue the entrance it sought. He deepened the kiss. Her struggles ceased. He was all darkness, carnal temptation, dominant male, masculinity defined, devastating her senses once more. He took her mouth as a thirsty man starving for water. And she gave him everything he asked for. She couldn’t do anything else. Intense pleasure streaked through her body, softened her and she leaned heavily into him. He held her tighter, delighting in her acute responsiveness to him, luxuriating in the softness of her. Slowing, he finally stopped the kiss, separating from her. <br/>‘these woods are swarming with paladins. I would see you safe Eleesia.’ His low whispered words caught her attention. But he never gave her time to answer, swinging her into his arms and depositing her onto goliath. Quickly he mounted behind her, catching both the reigns of her horse with his in his right hand, his left hand slipping like a promising caress around her waist. He pulled her body back into his, her back completely lined to his torso, his groin cradling her backside, her thighs and legs spilling along his. Her body ached, interrupted from its frenzied, dizzying fervour. He motioned goliath into motion, moving swiftly through the trees to find safer ground. Her hands laid against his, and she rocked with his movements, her body still buzzing from the rough kiss, reaching a new zenith. They were very aware of each other, yet he was still attuned to their surroundings. They had to move quickly. He would not see them harm her. Not after they found each other again. His renewed dedication to her obliterated any thoughts that he was betraying the very men that had shaped him.<br/>…….. <br/>They had travelled that way for a while. He had finally released her bonds, confident that she would not escape him. In truth she didn’t want to. Couldn’t even if he gave her the choice. His horses gait slowed then stopped. She looked at him as he dismounted. He held out his hand and helped her down. Turning around she looked at him. He handed her the reins of her horse.<br/>‘I can go no further. You should be safe now.’ She nodded looking down saddened. His head bent; his forehead close to hers as his quiet words met her ears.<br/>‘they will come. When they do, run.’ Her eyes met his questioningly and he barely shook his head. He wouldn’t give her any information. Picking up on his resistance, she changed direction.<br/>‘what about you?’<br/>‘I have to return to them.’ He was firm and resolved on that. She could tell. They still had a hold over him. He wouldn’t abandon them. But he made one thing clear from his actions. He would not hurt her. Had kept his promise, despite his dark sense of humour earlier. He sought to scare her, sought to tempt her, and she was tempted. He knew she would submit to him. But he also recognised within her the strength of will he himself held. She would fight him if she felt justified in doing so. His fingers brushed lingeringly down the side of her face, before her turned, mounted his horse. After His slight nod, he motioned goliath into motion, cantering down the road. She watched him in silence, loosely hold the reins of her horse. She needed to do something more. He had made his move. And she now was sure they were both on an even footing at least in some regards. However, she knew this was only just the start. He had shown he wouldn’t hesitate to do with her as he pleased. She knew at this time, regardless of what was between them, he would always return to them. She needed to break that hold. Stolen moments in the forest were not what she had in mind. There was one thing. A promise they had shared that one heartbreakingly beautiful night. Binding words. She wondered if he remembered. She didn’t want to use that memory. But she might have to if he couldn’t or wouldn’t break away on his own. Stopping her thoughts, Eleesia mounted her horse. She knew where he had left her. She had a way to go but she would return to the haven.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had taken the better part of the day and the entire night to reach the haven. She had kept moving, his words of warning in her ears. She had been careful that none followed her. She had finally made it. Now she was trying to find Gawain. She needed someone who understood her, the gentle acceptance he always gave to her. She was confused, sad, angry, frustrated. She hoped he would afford her the chance at a nonjudgmental conversation. The situation she had found herself in was delicate. She found him, talking to some others. He face lit in welcome as she approached.<br/>‘you look tired sister’ Eleesia nodded.<br/>‘I am. Listen can I have a moment? I need your advice.’ After analysing her for a moment, Gawain nodded and followed her to a more private section. He watched as she fidgeted, almost agitated. He put a calming hand upon hers.<br/>‘Eleesia…. tell me’ his gentle command drew her eyes to his. And so, she told him. Of the two incidences with the weeping monk. With each word, Gawain stilled, his face expressionless and she dreaded to hear how he felt. She told him of her worries, her suspicions, her thoughts, dreams. He listened intently, considering every word she spoke. After she finished, he took her hands between his, and drew her to sit on an earthy bench. <br/>‘I don’t envy your position Eleesia. I don’t understand. I can’t. I’ve never been where you are now. Do you love him.’ A shaky breath left her, her eyes met his, clear, sure, and honest.<br/>‘always’ she whispered.<br/>‘even knowing who he is’ Gawain’s quiet words were gentle, yet no less direct.<br/>‘even then.’ Her tone was strong. Gawain had no doubts of her feelings. He had no doubts should she be put into a position between her people and the man she loved, it would kill her. She would turn her back on her people. Such was the story of love. Yet the next thing she said chilled him.<br/>‘it’s more than love Gawain’ the words she whispered after this in his native language met his ears. His eyes closed in resignation. He felt pain for them, an echo of the pain they both have had to endure. They stood to lose everything. It could break them entirely and so fundamentally that there would be no recovering either of them.<br/>‘Eleesia’ the heart ache he felt escaped in the words. She bowed her head, a lonely tear dropping onto her hands. He knew then what he would do. What he could do.<br/>‘if he is your choice, I accept it sister. But should we meet, he and I, I give you no promises, I offer you no assurances.’ <br/>‘thank you.’ She had expected nothing less. She knew Gawain didn’t believe what the weeping monk was. That he would have to find out for himself. <br/>‘does he remember?’ he queried her.<br/>‘I don’t know. Most likely not’ He breathed out, running his hands over his face. Another thought flittered through his mind and he realised in that instance, he would truly support her. she appreciated everything Gawain offered for now, he would not judge her. Not after she had borne her darkest secret. He had been honest. She could find no fault in that. <br/>‘don’t thank me sister. Should it be a choice of his or my life, I will choose my own.’ A slight twisted grin marred her lips. He thought nothing of living his life, only of using it to protect his people. That was the very essence of her friend she appreciated most. It defined him, that he would give all that he was to see those he loved most safe and well.<br/>‘I would expect nothing else my friend.’ He nodded, got up, patting her hands comfortingly before turning to leave her. However, after a few steps he stopped, hesitated, half turned to her. Her deepest revelation affected him deeply. He couldn’t abandon her, not in this. Not in any way, shape, or form. She had accepted him so completely without question. He could give her this gift. His quiet words uttered a promise to her.<br/>‘should there be a time, a chance, that I can engage him without a fight…… I’ll try to help you Eleesia. Ill try to bring him home.’ A soft smile lit her face, and Gawain took a few minutes to look at her. He wanted to remember that smile of hers. For his gut churned with the thoughts that things may turn dark. He knew should that happen, the smile she currently gave him would be lost to the past.<br/>‘thank you’ her whisper followed him out. </p><p>A couple days later saw the most heinous thing the fae could witness. They caught the enemy in the act. Another caravan had been ambushed. All the occupants were dead, blood pooling on the earth beneath them, their bodies littered with lethal wounds. Eleesia was among those of her kind that had stumbled onto the scene. They had come too late. It was horrifying to see such loss of life, regardless if it was fae or not. Hidden they only saw paladins, joyful that they had taken down more of the dreaded demons in their pursuit to cleanse gods land. The fae witnessing the atrocity before them had silently communicated between them. An eye for an eye. They had killed theirs, and so the fae would avenge their dead and kill the enemy. they acted. It was only paladins after all. They launched out from hiding, simultaneously drawing their swords, and launched into the battle. They had caught them unawares, had managed to cut some of the red robes down. Unfortunately, what they saw was not the full truth. There were more paladins they hadn’t seen. These ones had warning, armed themselves and ran at them with deadly intent. One paladin aimed for Eleesia, and after parrying a few hits, Eleesia had managed to disarm him and cut him down. Sensing someone behind her, she spun, her sword poised to block the blade. The loud ring of swords clashing echoed through the clearing, and the force of the hit vibrated up her arms. Recognition hit with the revelation of her new opponent. time zeroed in to one small moment of time as both parties stilled, the blades of their swords kissing between them. For a heartbeat, ceased to exist. No sound permeated the moment of time they trapped themselves in. Their eyes met each other’s, holding them enraptured. both knew, here right now, they couldn’t act as they wanted. They couldn’t follow the dance they intuitively performed every time they had met. They had to play their roles. They had to at least pretend to be enemies. As the awareness of that thought flowed between them, their next move seemed coordinated, instinctively artless as if they had fought before. Blow after blow rang between them, both of the spinning around each other in the parody of waltz, her speed and agility matching his strength and cunning innately. His robes billowed out, his actions graceful and full of precision, purely hypnotic in nature. She didn’t believe Her skills were even a match to his level. She believed entirely different. And yet his thoughts travelled hers parallel, a slave to his craving of her. he never tried to kill, even though she left no easy opening. Never hurt her, not that he could, was able to anticipate and execute his moves to co ordinate with hers so that it seemed her skill set matched his. Or so she thought. His eyes danced, encouraging, taunting, demanding. He was enjoying their dalliance immensely.  She felt desire low in her belly, warming her. She watched in fascination, as his body moved to meet hers in a dance as old as time. It was alluring, captivating her. To her, he was completely and utterly temptation. She couldn’t resist him, didn’t want to. She met him with blade time and time again, their movements matching each other’s precisely, the rawness of their fight a dangerous and dark seduction of its own. They were both unaware that behind them, the fae had managed to kill all the paladins and were watching the show. It was if they were both matched, soul mates, the missing halves that would make each other whole. They were mesmerising, hypnotic to watch. A final clang and his blade met hers low, their eyes still latched to each other’s. They both were huffing. Watching. Analysing. Scrutinizing. No one moved, all seemed stunned. It wasn’t long though before a voice broke the spell that had settled over the glade.<br/>‘El, they’re dead’ the voice belonged to a male fae, with the knowledge of exactly not just who the man in front of them was, but what he was to Eleesia. He was one who concurred with Gawain’s thoughts. If it were possible, they would help to bring the lost home. Eleesia silently evaluated the weeping monk, waited for his next move. That would determine how she reacted. As the monk stood posed, he examined her closely. Sudden clarity shined in his eyes. He had no doubts now, though she loved him, she would fight him if it meant to save her kin. She would stand between them. He couldn’t fault her for that. And with that understanding and acceptance in his visage, he lowered his sword, then sheathed it. She relaxed following suit, and her companions loosened, their breaths whooshing out of them. Although they hated what he did, hated him, they respected her. For her they would give her this. But there was no doubts in anyone’s mind, should she not be there, they would have attacked, sought to kill. Eleesia knew this and was thankful for their discretion. Her and the monk stood apart, watching each other greedily. She had no idea what to do. Each time they had met, there had been passion. A slow burning fire. Their moments had been sexually charged, and certainly raw. It was then she decided it didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered since the night she welcomed him into her body. She wouldn’t apologise for her feelings. She couldn’t control her desire. She dropped all pretences in that moment and acted. Her steps hurried, she hustled towards the monk determined. It seemed her anticipated her, or perhaps her desires were written into the lines of her face, or he was as greedy for her as she was for him. he met her in the middle, their arms grasping, their lips meeting in a desperate flurry of passion. Both thankful that they weren’t put in a position of fighting for their lives. For they knew then, his feelings, their past, would be their death. Until he returned to them, what was between them, her love for him, the weakness he held for her, was dangerous. He swept her into his body, his mouth on hers demanding and giving just as ferociously as hers. Their coming together had embarrassed some of the other fae, disgusted others, and all had turned away. It was a modicum of privacy they hadn’t worried about, nor cared for. Clutching her to him, they stopped to breathe, their breaths mingling.<br/>‘what are you doing here’ he was breathless from his indulgence of her. She looked around his arm to the bodies of his dead brothers before returning her gaze to him, cocking an eyebrow. His eyes darkened.<br/>‘I could ask the same of you’ a growl sounded. His eyes bore into hers with a knowing glint.<br/>‘had this gone any other way…….’ His grave warning escaped from gritted teeth. He was angry.<br/>‘it had to happen sometime.’ Her acceptance and seemingly flippant reply of the possibilities this could have led to raised his ire.<br/>‘not if I can help it. ‘she snorted, stepping away from his sinister countenance. She looked away towards the ground in exasperation briefly before meeting his eyes again.<br/>‘naive much?’ suddenly he was in motion, stalking her. His steps were determined and precise. She backtracked fast, not having the time to look behind her. So quick he got that when he reached her, he never stopped going forward. He had grabbed her upper arms, propelling her hips against the boulder behind her, her back arching backwards, his hands coming to rest either side of her. He caged her in, his body touching hers, until their noses almost touched. His breath rushed over her lips, his eyes drilled into hers and his voice rasped out accusingly.<br/>‘do you want to talk about naivety Eleesia?’ although he was angry, her name on his tongue was like prayer, captivating, and titillating. His mouth caressed the letters of her name, like a wicked delicious dark promise. He seduced her senses, catapulting her into a haze of raw heat. He saw her eyes darken with desire, her body melted to his, utterly and completely responsive to him. He could smell her arousal as it fragranced the air around him, titillating him. It was enough to break his anger, enough to seduce him. She captivated him so completely he was her willing captive. His hands grabbed her hips, pulling them into his hard, her legs wrapping around him for purchase. One of his hands traced the curve of her backside, running sensuously along her outer thigh until his fingers met the indent behind her knee. His fingers hooked there, drawing her thigh up higher, opening her to him intimately. Immediately in response her hands rose to grip his shoulders tightly, her gasp captured by his lips as they descended on her. the tide of his desire rose and swamped them both. He coveted this. Every time he travelled alone, he wished to cross her path. He yearned for her, burned for her. She craved him, wanted anything of him he would give. Their desire built higher, forging a heat in their veins that threatened the burn them. He rocked against her; his want clear. He could not bear it, he wanted to get closer to her, bury himself deep inside of her. Desperate Whimpers escaped her, as inflamed as he was, as he drank from her lips. Sudden motion behind them broke into their lust filled haze, and they pulled apart so quickly he stumbled a few steps from her. She leant heavily against the boulder they were moments ago braced against. They were breathing hard and fast, both their lips swollen, their eyes dark with forbidden hunger. Their thirst of each other was again left unquenched. No one could mistake what had happened. The evidence they sported could not be denied. One of the fae men that had been with her approached them.<br/>‘we can’t tally here anymore, it’s too dangerous.’ The mans words cleared the monks mind and in retaliation to the words, he stepped to Eleesia, his hand out in invitation, his eyes beseeching her.<br/>‘he’s right. These woods will be swarming with more soon enough. Go’ at his words, she accepted his gentle command, brushing past him, her body aching and unfulfilled, to follow the others. His palm lingered on her spine sensually as he guided her a few steps to her companions. His hand unexpectedly gripping her arm roughly caused her to spin to him in query. Feeling her move, he pulled her hard to him, kissed her roughly then pushed her gently away. Breathless she gave him a knowing look before turning and following the others. Just before she was out of sight, she turned to see him still standing where she left him, his eyes following her. She took a moment to watch him, committing this moment to memory, thirsting for him and with a slight nod that was returned, she turned and disappeared amongst the foliage.<br/>After she had gone, he turned to the carnage in front of him. Struggling to Wipe all expression from his face, he tried to maintain his usual demeanour. It was unprecedented that he could lose himself so completely. Yet he did not feel any shame. He needed to update his father. She had no idea of how he handled his brothers. No ideas of the lies he spun to keep he safe. But for tonight, he had no doubt he would be punished. She was his one weakness. The one thing that could bring him to his knees. He smiled in self derision. They never had to know how she haunted him. His very memories taunted him.<br/>He would never kill the whispering ash witch.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>WARNING: SENSITIVE CONTENT AHEAD</p><p>*denotes memory*</p><p>The passage of time is not always a pleasant one. Living constantly in fear of being hunted, suffering hunger, not knowing from one moment to the next if you would live or die. It was familiar to Eleesia. She had lived like this before, had survived it then and would again. Her days were filled with helping those in need, hunting for food, patrolling for threats, and hoping against all odds she could find and safely escort others of her kind to the haven. It was safe per say. They were getting close, tracking their kind as they were. But it was far safer then trying to survive in the forests. But it was getting harder. The paladins had changed tactics trying to flush them out. They had started targeting their food supplies, burning the fields, and killing all who tried to aid them. It often left the fae exhausted, bereft of the senseless systematic killing of her kind. They posed no threat. It was genocide. It was utter madness. It was greed, power and jealousy that was slaughtering her people, not those of pure or noble intentions. Although the church would have you believe differently. It was heartbreaking. <br/>Gawain had taken a few fighters with him to check on the last minators field they had. They hoped to find them alive and try to protect what they could. Their people would slowly starve to death, the food shortages causing enough problems as it was. Eleesia had opted to stay back, to guard the innocent lives living in fear within the fae sanctuary. That was until word reached them. The field was under attack. Gawain and the others were trapped. Reacting quickly, Eleesia efficiently rounded up a few fighters. She wouldn’t leave the haven undefended, but she couldn’t sit and do nothing while her friends were butchered. They gathered what meagre supplies they could find and set out to aid their brethren. <br/>……………..<br/>Eleesia and the others arrived to see a huge smoke tunnel in front of the windmill. High intensity winds swirled in a circle, a tornado of smoke and confusion stationary in front of them. Of the paladins, there was no sign. Neither was there any sign of the others. They watched and listened to the screams of terror emanating from the Smokey funnel. It was eerie, yet Eleesia sensed that whatever caused it, was not threat to them, as long as they didn’t venture into it. One of the men with her nudged her, pointing out a figure knelt on the path in front of the stationery tornado with a sword. Clarity hit Eleesia as her mind catalogued the situation. Nimue, the sword of power. This was her doing She motioned with the others to follow her as she ran to Nimue’s side. When they reached her, Eleesia commanded them to keep watch. What she would attempt to do would leave both her and Nimue completely vulnerable. While Nimue on her own was vulnerable, she was at least aware of her surroundings and the possible approach of danger. What Eleesia intended, would draw them into something else, leaving them bereft and blind to their surroundings, unable to sense any approach of intending danger. She approached Nimue carefully, letting the woman know she was there without breaking her concentration. She could see Nimue struggling and thought to aid her while she conducted her objective. Gently, she laid her hand on Nimue’s shoulder, tapping into the power she sensed emanating from the woman. The power Nimue wielded in that moment was as formidable as the weeping monk was in delivering death. She understood then what Nimue was doing. She was giving cover for Gawain and their kind to get out, utilising a tactic of the old stories to cause confusion and hastening the demise of their enemy. She was dividing their attention, distracting them, turning them on to each other. The paladins thought they were killing fae. Closing her eyes, Eleesia sunk her essence deeper in to Nimue, tapping into the power of the sword that amplified Nimue’s own talent. The power of the sword did not stop Eleesia, she was not its wielder, it sensed she was not a threat and so she was able to follow the thread. It was then Eleesia sensed the weeping monk, his confusion. Nimue, who Eleesia had connected to, had no control nor option to strike him down. She could only watch as Eleesia sent her own power through Nimue, towards the weeping monk. She saw everything, in order for Eleesia to use Nimue’s connection to the funnel, Eleesia had to open herself up, nothing was hidden. Nimue saw everything, Eleesia’s past, her darkest secrets, her private hopes and dreams, her forbidden love, her desperation to save him. Apart of Nimue wept, completely understanding Eleesia, completely knowing her in a way that otherwise wasn’t possible. It bound them together as closely as sisters. For not only did Nimue truly see Eleesia, Eleesia was able to truly see Nimue through the reciprocal connection. And Eleesia understood the part of Nimue’s soul that wept for her. For Nimue now knew, the weeping monk was Eleesia’s betrothed from her previous life. She saw how Eleesia had tried to heal him, how she tried to offer him comfort. She saw the night Eleesia offered herself to him, how enamoured he was of her, and felt the beginning of their love, the depth of it. She saw the moment that love became something so much more, the bond that would always tie them together. Nimue was now aware of exactly what the weeping monk was to Eleesia, and it was so much more then what she had guessed. Eleesia had hid it well. What Nimue had become aware of, was stunningly beautiful to her. It was everything she wished for, everything she never dreamed of having. But for Eleesia and the weeping monk, it was marred in tragedy. Her heart ached for them. Nimue was a spectator, and so she watched, as Eleesia through her, reached out to the weeping monk. Eleesia believed it was time to remind him of who he was. Nimue sensed her newfound friend would not be deterred.<br/>…………………<br/>His confusion had turned to anger. The wolf blood witch had done this, had caused the death of his brothers. He roared in anger. Suddenly a figure loomed out of the smoke in front of him, barely there. The figure was smaller then him, the features not quiet visible. The monk stiffened, for he knew who that figure was. He recognise the curves he himself had experienced, had felt.  He stumbled towards her, seeking to protect her from the fate others suffered in the funnel, his hand reaching out beckoning her. But she disappeared and he could not find her. Desperation filled him as he looked around wildly trying to find her, his heart pounding in his chest. He sensed something behind him, spinning around and lifting his sword in readied defence. His sword dropped, his mouth opened, his stunned eyes meeting her form. It was her, but it wasn’t at the same time. His eyes took her in, couldn’t leave the vision in front of him. Her hair calm, curls tumbling around her form, seemingly unaffected as if winds were not winding the smoke around them. She wore a white dress, patchworked in silks, filmy materials, and lace, jagged at the bottom as if she word multiple handkerchiefs, sleeves split from shoulder to elbow gifting glimpses of her tanned arms, delicate in its simplicity. The neck of the dress was wide and met into a low point showing a delectable amount of cleavage, the smooth skin a temptation of greater delights. A charcoal coloured leather corset sat beneath her breasts, emphasising her slim waist. Her face was hers, but weeping tears marks stood out almost black beneath her eyes. Her lips were tainted with a tantalising pink, but Her voice when she spoke was like a ghostly aperture, commanding in its power.<br/>‘its time to remember Lancelot.’  Words in a different tongue that should have been foreign to him, echoed around him, spinning him around to try to find other speakers. His confusion deepened, as the meaning of the words resonated with something deep inside of him. Twisting back around, he had noticed she had become ghostly, her figure blending and disappearing with the tumulus winds. He whipped around in a slight panic as the reverberating words charged at him, raining down at him as if they could beat him down. His head started to ache, as he tried to find clarity in the smoke storm. He stumbled, unable to find direction in the chaos around him. The ache intensified as he spun, seeking to find her and escape the cacophony of sound. Her name tore from his hope, in heart stopping anguish. Pain ripped through his head, distressing him, his centre of balance affected. His hands rose, clutching his head in despondency, almost trying to claw the pain out. He started screaming, as the pain increased. Suddenly, the sounds ceased, only to be replaced by her voice pure and lilting, reaching him like a light in the darkness.<br/>‘heart, mind, body, soul, blood – I bind myself to you unto eternity’. In his weakened stupor, on his knees in the middle of the high intensity smoke funnel, the foreign words merged with the voice, remembrance striking him hard.<br/>*their passion soared as he thrusted deep inside of her, ruthlessly driving her desire higher. He revealed in her nails digging into the skin of his back, burying his head for a moment in her neck as she arched under him. He could not get enough of her, her scent permeating the air around him, pulling him in deeper. Her sighs and moans but a song of encouragement to his ears. There on the dirty floor or his prison, he felt true happiness, a measure of peace. He felt complete. His eyes found hers, watching as her lips parted. Words tumbled off her lips, the language of their people. He knew them, but the pleasure drowned out the full understanding of why she said them. His eyes closed, his head tipping back as her wet heat gripped him, his pleasure heightening, his thrusting becoming deeper within her. He looked back down at her, enjoying her responsiveness to him. She arched deeper into him, back bowed impossibly back, shoulders digging into the ground beneath her, her breasts pushed hard against his chest, her head tipped back, an inaudible cry falling from her lips. Their breaths harsh and fast, filled the small room. He felt an undeniable pull to speak, momentarily registering the same words she spoke as they tumbled helplessly from his lips instinctively, breaking the sounds of their indulgence in the room. Sudden heat filled them, the intensity stunning them, as a light between them glowed, then faded. He felt her then, as she was pushed over the edge, pulling him over with her. In that moment, he knew heaven, his salvation. Slumping on her, her arms and legs pulled him deeper to her, offering him sanctuary and comfort. And as he drifted, still floating in blissful rupture, he heard the words, their gentle resonance lulling them.<br/>‘heart, mind, body soul, blood – I bind myself to you unto eternity for I am yours and you are mine’*</p><p>Lancelot breathed hard, waiting for the storm to end. His mind a mess of confusion, memory, and denial. His body heated in remembrance of the very feel of her. He would kill this witch and find… her. He needed answers, for his mind could not for the moment, organise the tempest in his head.<br/>………………<br/>She saw it all, witnessed the might Eleesia’s love afforded her. She felt everything, and in that moment, tears blinded her. She would grieve later, for the unimaginable pain and heartbreak they had found after that one blindingly beautiful act of purity she witnessed. Nimue was weakening, and she felt Eleesia stumble, as she broke the connection. As Nimue slumped, the hands of her friends and Eleesia’s companions, guided her and Eleesia away from danger.<br/>……………<br/>The winds finally calmed, the smoke clearing. The weeping monk registered the dead bodies around him. Nothing moved, he was the only one alive. On his knees, he drove his fist to the ground, roaring as grief overwhelmed him, his legendary self-discipline well and truly shattered. He knew not what he grieved for, only that he felt right there and then, that he had lost something so valuable, so precious to him. All he knew was that he wanted it back, with a desperation that knew no bounds. He knew it was connected to Eleesia. Whatever it was, he would hunt it, find it, he would take it back. She would help him, or she would face her death at his hands. And be damned anyone who stood in his way.  </p><p>………………..<br/>She was barely conscious. They carried her back in all haste, to the sanctuary. She registered bits of words her mind was able to focus on, but they made no sense to her. All she knew, was she did what she had set out to do. She had reminded him, forced him to begin remembering. She sensed this. She sensed him through their bond now that his subconscious was aware. It was only a matter of time before he would have total recall, would know the truth of them and what had been taken from them. the church, the paladins, father Carden would loose him. A ghostly smile broke over from her hips. Her triumph comforted her, and she glorified in the knowledge he would one day be free, and they could love each other unreservedly. If the church only knew, what the two of them had done back then, would be the very catalyst that turned their weapon against them. His very nature, his birth right, would not be denied. They had no idea what was coming. She felt peaceful in that moment. Soon he would be found. Soon he will come home. She only had to be patient. Her last thoughts turned to him, an image of him in the forest filling her mind.<br/>Her husband…….  Darkness swallowed her under, and she knew no more.</p><p>…………………</p><p>Eleesia regained consciousness. She had expected a barrage of questions fired at her. What met her was silent understanding, empathy, and ghostly sad smiles. She looked for refuge from the deluge of emotions, tears silently dripping down her face. Tears of relief, tears of grief, tears of betrayal. Comforting arms surrounded her, pulling her in a broad chest. The scent that met her, was known to her, knowledge he did not judge her but accepted her situation, comforted her. You could not choose who you loved. But he knew, she would do anything she possibly could to free him or die trying. They did not know then that, that was the last private moment the two friends would share. They did not know the horror that was to come. <br/> A few days later, bought them news that terrified down to the bones. The paladins were uncomfortably close. They would find them. A confusion of bodies swarmed the haven, collecting and readying them for departure. They were going to gramaire.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They had found the sanctuary finally. It was empty. The fae had already left. He sent men out to search for them, he knew they couldn’t have got far. He looked briefly around before he sensed it…. echoes of her, her scent. He stood silently and breathed her in, soaking in what little of her there was. His mind was in chaos. He had complete remembrance of their past, and with that came an understanding of everything that had happened between them and what it meant for them both. She was his wife, not in the eyes of the church, but through the sacred fae customs. It mattered not to him how they were connected. He desired to acknowledge it and so he did. He knew then his feelings ran far deeper for her then he cared to admit. The church had tried to destroy her, the influence she held over him. They failed miserably, and that part of her that lived inside of him, calmed, and hid, resting in wait until it was time to remind him. He didn’t know what that meant for them. He had no illusions that should Carden become aware, he would have her hunted and slaughtered for she is the thorn in their sides. His wife and the wolf blood witch. Only they didn’t know of her…. not yet. He himself would be punished, severely, deeply, maybe even put to death if they knew. It depended if they thought he could be saved. If there was a single doubt…. well he was too dangerous to them to have around if that was the case. His loyalty wasn’t to the fae. But it was to her now. He had to make sure she never knew that. He couldn’t take the chance that she would use that knowledge in saving her people, and rightly so. Still, he was going to up the ante on their little game. He assumed she had done what she had set out to do. At least partially. He wouldn’t leave the church; such was his loyalty. Perhaps he can change the terms of the game. The end game…. He had some ideas. He wasn’t the man she knew, and despite her acknowledging that, he felt she clung to the original image she had of him. Well he intended to break that. She wanted him; she would get the whole package…. including the very monster, they created. He would test her love, he would test her viability, after all, she wasn’t just the wife of Lancelot. She was the wife of the churches weapon, the wife of the lethal weeping monk. Not that she would be recognised as that, the church wouldn’t stand for that kind of relation. Any woman put in that position, needed to be strong, cunning, and ruthless. He would test her. With that he took looked to the paladin waiting behind him, ordering for the sanctuary to be burned down.<br/>………<br/>They had made it to gramaire, had been able to take it and rid it of paladin occupation. It wasn’t too long afterwards that they had realised the trouble they would be facing shortly with food shortages evident, so Gawain and some of the others had gone out, to check upon their food sources. They had to know how dire the situation was going to get. The paladins had been burning their crops. They had noticed their dwindling food supplies and realised they couldn’t stay here indefinitely, certainly not as long as they had hoped. They had started planning, Nimue willing to make the ultimate sacrifice if need be for her people. Tensions were high, and they fought to stop the brewing trouble from escalating. It was not a situation Eleesia thought she could handle any better than the young fae queen. And so Eleesia had opted to go out too, she couldn’t bare the walls around her, so used to being in the open forests. She wanted to do a bit of scouting of her own, learn what she could of the viability of the plan they were sketching out. They needed as much information as they could get, and she always worked better alone. However, her travels led her to the sanctuary, her dismay at seeing it burn capturing her emotions. The paladins hadn’t been far behind them. They had been lucky to have not been caught. Very lucky. Eleesia sat and watched the flames scour their brief home. There wasn’t many places they had left to go. She realised that perhaps the only option they had was the very option the queen had hinted at. She squatted on the small rise, dirt falling through her fingers as her eyes lost their focus in thought. She wondered if he knew she had been there. What would have he done If he had found her. Did he look for her? She shook herself from her thoughts, and returned to her scouting. What was done was done. She had tried. Now she needed to put her efforts into helping her people escape the slowly closing net of the paladins.<br/>…………<br/>She had heard swords clashing before she stumbled over him. She had snuck up, seeing two men sword fighting when she accidently discovered squirreled. The men hadn’t noticed, Eleesia was thankful for it. Until she had realised who was fighting. She nearly gave away their position, squirrel acting quickly by tripping her and subduing her briefly with his weight while he pressed his hands over her mouth to muffle her screams and sobs, as hard as he could. She could’ve freed herself easily, but He had leant down and pleaded with her, he had a plan but would welcome her help. Accenting, Eleesia watched with frustrated tears in her ears as her husband carried her injured friend to his horse. She wanted nothing more then to run to them, confront him. Her anger was such she wanted to beat some sense into him. He should’ve remembered. It should’ve have been enough that he would turn. But it wasn’t, he still appeared to be the churches killer. She agreed to squirrels plan. They would try to aid Gawain. But she had her own agenda. She would confront Lancelot, try to convince him, and hopefully not get caught. She didn’t fancy burning, but if he were truly lost to her, burn she would. They followed silently, from a distance so he couldn’t sense them. He led, they would follow, and no one would be the wiser.<br/>………….<br/>They had followed the weeping monk back to the paladin camp, had watched from the trees after a paladin had words with Gawain, the weeping monk silently standing by them. They saw the tent they had dragged him into. Several times, over time they had changed positions, both separating and moving to different areas to get better visuals. She had lost track of squirrel and Gawain long ago. It was growing dark now, she had determined which tent belonged to him. She was going to surprise him. Confront him, determine if he was truly lost to her. She thought he had felt something. Knew the possibility her plan would fail. However, the surprise was hers. She had managed to get into the back of the tent without anyone being any wiser. She was in what looked to be the sleeping area that had been curtained off from the main area. She had crept closer but stayed hidden as she had heard father Carden speaking with Lancelot. His words disgusted her, his false hesitant assurance of love, was nothing but empty words. The sentiment was missing. when she peaked around the partition, it was the sight that met her eyes that horrified her. He had torn is back up in his search for light and redemption of god, that he would never get. He wasn’t one of theirs, he hadn’t even properly been indoctrinated if what she was hearing was anything to go by. And the words, what wasn’t spoken alluded to Eleesia that Lancelot had suffered far more abuse and torture at the red robed hands then even she had initially witnessed. Her heart broke for his suffering, that he continued to suffer. This was why her original plan failed. They had twisted his mind, stripped him of everything before remaking their masterpiece. She felt ill, at all that he had to endure. It was a testament to him that he was alive this day. She knew if their positions were different, she would never have survived. Her admiration of him heightened. His pain, internal and external must have been so acute that he hadn’t sensed her, for her never gave her presence away. She could only watch on as he suffered. <br/>It was in that one glorified moment, that she heard it. That single laden pause before he accented. A small wry grin crept up her face. It was doubt. He was beginning to doubt. He wouldn’t be theirs any longer if she gauged that right. And the grin grew. It was her turn now. Catch him unawares, and feed that doubt. She watched Carden leave the tent, her eyes returning to the mess on his back. Feed his doubts and play her first role……. his healing angel. Quietly, she moved, carefully stepping to his back with a bowl of water and a piece of cloth she had seen, and she started her ministrations. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move except to lower his head as she carefully patted at the mess of bloody wounds on his back. His breath hissed from his lips, but he didn’t move an inch. She realised he had sensed her; he knew she had been there. Probably even scented her. That he let her see him in his most vulnerable moment proved to her that he had accepted their past. It endeared her to him, knowing her seem to trust her that much. And so, she worked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke.<br/>‘you shouldn’t be here’ she paused weighing those words.<br/>‘you took my brother, I sought to follow him.’ His slight stiffening alerted her to the idea he was wasn’t very happy with her reply.<br/>‘why then are you here?’ his whispered words caught her attention and she froze with indecision. What she spoke next would determine their actions. They both knew this, felt it within their very bones.<br/>‘I’m here for you’ her words trailed off, lingering between them. He turned slowly, mindful of the pain that shot through his body. The cloth in her hands hit the ground at her knees, her eyes following it. He finished turning, watching her silently for a few moments. His fingers gently nudged the underneath of her chin, raising her gaze to his eyes. She tried to brace herself, but when her gaze met his, she saw the pain, the desolation within his eyes. Hers welled up, helpless to the onslaught of emotions she sensed from him. His lips were open, slight pants of pain coming from him. He looked broken, not the lethal dark warrior she had seen him be. The marks of his fae heritage, the tears lined the anguish she saw in his face. In that moment, he looked like any other man in pain and misery.<br/>‘why’ his lips formed the whispered words.<br/>‘I love you’ his eyes closed in response, a blissful look rippling across his face. Quick as he could, he leant forward and kissed her, the kiss sweet, full of promise, beautiful, soft, and slow. The tears that had gathered in her eyes when she saw him, teetered, and fell when she closed them, running in rivulets down her face. Her hands braced her against his chest, both of his hands covering them. He broke the kiss, lingering close to her.<br/>‘don’t cry for me my love’ a quiet sob tore from her lips.<br/>‘you need to go, they cant find you here’ his whispered plea tore from him, as if the very thought of her leaving him was abandonment. She started shaking her head, a hand moving up to cup his jaw softly. She refused to leave his side, memories of the past echoing and layering on the scene of the present. His hands gripped her upper arms, his desperation for her safety lending him strength.<br/>‘Eleesia…. if they find you…. I can’t…. I couldn’t go on…. Eleesia please…. Not you’ his broken words, charged the air, seeping deep into her and she leant closer into him, shaking her head in plea.<br/>‘don’t send me away again…. Not when you need me most’ he groaned, his forehead touching hers. They sat there, mere stolen moments before he looked into her eyes again.<br/>‘go, stay close. Don’t let them find you, ill come to you’ his words were sure, echoing the physical pain he was in. she studied his face, looking deep into his eyes.<br/>‘promise?’ it was the one thing he could never do, one thing he never had done with her. The first-time round…. he could never make her a promise he couldn’t fulfill. He broke that now. Sure, it was something he would do.<br/>‘promise’ he huskily whispered to her. She searched his face for a few moments before nodding. Before she could pull away from him, he gathered her to him, not caring for the agony the action caused and kissed her hard, sealing the promise between them. Letting her go, he lightly pushed her away, nodding his head to assure her.<br/>‘go’ the soft commanding word spurred her into action. He sat after she had gone, his eyes closing in desolation, his breaths harsh and his back stiff. He gathered himself together, stiffening his resolve. He was still a warrior of the church, regardless of how he had betrayed them with his love. His doubts swirled within his mind, but he tried to push them away. Gathering the discipline born from years of abuse and training, he stood, dressing slowly, deliberately. Securing his sword belt, he hesitated, standing statue like within his tent, the warrior once more although not complete. His eyes stared at the last place her saw her, her face looming in his mind. His husky proclamation linger in the tent longer after he took his leave.<br/>‘I love you ‘.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She had gone to the trees like he asked of her. She stayed close, waiting, and watching, hidden lest she get spotted by the paladins. She narrowly missed a few patrols, moving around them quietly to keep hidden. She wanted to be able to meet him when he came out to her. It was a long afternoon for her. She hadn’t seen much of squirrel either and that unsettled her. She only hoped he stayed undercover. What she didn’t know was that the paladins had already captured squirrel. Because of the circumstances, the weeping monk hadn’t told her, even though he had known squirrel was known to her. After all the first time he had seen her again, was when he had used squirrel as bait. it was understandable considering his own pain and self-punishment, his mind had not been on the child, but rather looking for redemption, for salvation in god. His doubts had bought on his self-punishment, had bought her to him. He had cared only for her safety, that someone so intrinsically important to him, be kept away from the darkness, the bloody atrocities committed by the church. She was his purity, she needed to be protected and so he had sent her away with no knowledge that the child she had sought to protect from him, was at this moment in the very hands that would see him crucified and tortured for the very nature he couldn’t help but to be. <br/>She shifted again, hearing the raised voice of father Carden, unable to hear his words and watching as a band of riders in red robes headed out afterwards.  The camp looked eerie with, so few left behind. Eleesia moved closer and around, seeing Abbott wicklow and his trinity guards lingering around. They would be an issue to get passed, thought Eleesia. As the sun set, she watched her foe settle in for the night.<br/>…………….<br/>Eleesia had gotten close to a tent. It had stunned her, right as she thought to continue stealthily continue closer, to see the weeping monk hurrying along squirrel. Shock came to her quickly, as she paced them, determined to get to her little friend. She didn’t want another death of someone she cared about by his hands. They stopped suddenly, the monk pushing squirrel slightly to the side behind him. She managed to slink closer, the breeze helpfully bringing their words to her as she watched as abbot wicklow and his trinity guard confront them.<br/>‘I wouldn’t’ stated abbot wicklow in warning. <br/>‘does he remind you of someone? this fey orphan’ abbot Wicklow’s words were sure.<br/>‘you don’t need him’ stated Lancelot, his grip hard on squirrel.<br/>‘why? Cant he smell out his own kind like a kind of animal’ wicklow slowly advanced, the words an almost sneer on his austere face. ‘or is that just your species’.<br/>Lancelot’s gaze faced the ground for a moment, before turning to squirrel, his quiet command reaching even her.<br/>‘find cover’ he shoved squirrel lightly away from him, and squirrel didn’t hesitate, as abbot wicklow nodded in confirmation of his own thoughts, squirrel took off, running unknowingly right to her. She reached out and grabbed squirrel, her hand covering his mouth to muffle his start, dragging him down to her side and shushed him. She motioned to the proceedings, and they settled to watch, squirrel sidling into Eleesia for comfort. Lancelot’s right hand stretched out, in preparation, his left hand clutching the sheath of his swords. He turned to completely face abbot wicklow. <br/>‘you do have a reputation’ acknowledged wicklow barely, ‘but this is the trinity guard’ his chin thrusting to black robbed, gold masked men behind him. <br/>‘you know their skill’ the Abbott finished, his voice confident and sure in the abilities of the trained guards behind him.<br/>In response, the weeping monk took hold of both of his swords and drew them simultaneously, his face hidden by his hood, the darkness around him seemingly to embrace him. The slight accepting nodding of Wicklow’s head confirmed his words.<br/>‘so be it’ and he motioned to his guards to engage the monk. The monk moved in preparation, utilising a rare grace that was his signature in skill, his eyes calculating the threat in front of him. She watched as the trinity guards advanced towards Lancelot, their armour and weapons jingling in tune to their footsteps. She witnessed Lancelot take a stance in preparation of the battle about to begin. Her eyes witnessed, her body breathless, as Lancelot swung his body, his feet leaving the floor to engage in the nearest guard. In a split second she witnessed his grace, his lethality as he moved. The battle was on.<br/>……………<br/>Squirrel tugged on Eleesia, and she fought briefly with him before giving up. He wanted to get closer, perhaps help the very man that had tried to save him. The very man that at this moment was fighting a battle, physically, emotionally, and mentally against the very church he had faithfully served all these years. If Lancelot was indeed breaking away, both squirrel and Eleesia planned to help him. So, they moved carefully and as stealthily as they could, intending not to catch the attention of the other paladins who where otherwise spellbound by the battle in front of them. She had kept a partial eye on Lancelot, and had been proud, the very weapon they created had taken out six of the famed trinity guards with ease. She felt an unease permeant her as she witnessed abbot wicklow confirm to the other six guards to advance. She felt the panic and dread begin to brew deep in her gut, as Lancelot moved to meet them, his swords stretched out either side of him, a sneer on his lips as he faced them. They struck, and he lost his swords. Agony and pain gripped her as she watched them beat him mercilessly. She wanted to go to him, but squirrels hand gripping her forearm tightly reminded her of the sacrifice her beloved had made to save the child’s like. She stayed where she was, tears running down his face, her voice muted, tormented to see him violated and beaten. She looked to see abbot wicklow take pleasure in how the fey warrior in front of him slumped on the ground in defeat and agony. Anger poured through her then. Lancelot shouldn’t submit. They watched as one of the guards reefed the monk into a kneeling position, dragging off his hood so all who witnessed would have no doubt of who would die by the trinity guards skill. Eleesia saw as Lancelot’s bloodied face was revealed, a look of pure relief gracing his face before his eyes met those of the watching abbot.<br/>‘Lancelot’ she whispered in anguish, not believing she was watching her greatest loves final moments.  Eleesia did not want to know what the relief on his face meant, she had a fear it was for his approaching escape through death, believing their quarry was safe. Suddenly squirrel popped up, a rock leaving his hand to hit the golden mask that stood as executioner over Lancelot. It was enough to distract him momentarily, as squirrel escaped her reaching hold to dart out in front of the group determinedly. In desperation, she followed, drawing her sword as squirrel picked up the one of the grounds, both of them pointing them towards the guard. Eleesia had no idea what squirrel had meant to accomplish, but if they thought to kill Lancelot, she was going to die with him, trying to free him. It drew Lancelot’s attention, his body wavering with loosing strength. Squirrels voice spat with hatred towards the guard.<br/>‘whose first?’ Eleesia’s eyes focused with threatening intensity on the threat in front of them, her hand gripping squirrels shoulder, ready to thrust him away from the encroaching danger in an attempt to save him. She made no sound, spoke no words, letting squirrels words dare the lethal men they stood before. She just like squirrel was determined, they would either help save him, or die trying. She saw the flicker of annoyance upon Lancelot’s face before he reached slowly for the sword on the ground before him. He lurched up, seemingly to find strength he appeared to lack before, engaging once again brutally with the guards. Eleesia jerked squirrel hard behind her and thrust him away from the fight with her following, her back to the boy, her sword still high in a dangerous threat, giving Lancelot the space to kill the black robed threats without accidentally injuring them. Lancelot twisted with deadly accuracy, his skill with blade bringing death to the threatening trinity guard to protect them. He drove deep his sword into the chest of downed guard, leaving his sword within him, staggered to another guard, pulling him up onto his knees before he snapped his neck with his bare hands, his face a mask of anger as he stared at Wicklow, dropping the body after the resounding crack. Abbot wicklow took a few steps back, realising the skills of the monk were astonishingly superior to that of the dead trinity guards. Pulling the sword from the previous guards back, Lancelot raise the sword in wearied defiance, the deadly threat to Abbot wicklow clear. It was in the back of Eleesia’s mind that she perceived the true deadly and lethal assassin she loved. It sent cold shivers down her spine, a subtle relief that he didn’t see her as his enemy. The abbot backed up, then turned and fled, recognising the deadly intent to his life. All fight and strength seemed to leech from Lancelot, as with sword still held aloft in threat, sunk to his knees, his head leant back in exhaustion, the sword finally dropping with a clang to the ground as if he could no longer hold its weight. The threat was temporarily eliminated. Eleesia and squirrel didn’t hesitate, she sheathed her sword, he dropped his sword and they bolted to the side of the extremely injured weeping monk. Squirrel grabbed his shoulder as Lancelot slumped over, his head dangerously close to the ground.<br/>‘come on!! we have to go!! Come on!! Get up!’ begged squirrel of Lancelot, his teeth gritted in a desperate plea and strain as he sought to help the injured fey to his feet. Feeling the panic that they all were not safe yet, Eleesia reached his other side, her hands coming to support Lancelot as both her and squirrel leant Lancelot their strength and aid in pulling him to his feet. They helped support him, spurring him to his horse. He gripped it, their intent forcing its way through the pain filled haze of his mind. With her help, Lancelot managed to mount his horse, his hand reaching for squirrel. <br/>‘come on’ Lancelot invited the boy, his desire to save him still very evident. They both struggled to help squirrel into the saddle in front of Lancelot, his injuries stretching in protest of the movement. immediately after securing the reins, Lancelot nudged goliath into motion, half slumped over the boy. Eleesia ran to the horse beside goliath, quickly mounting and motioning the horse to goliaths side, intent on escaping with and protecting the horses precious cargo. <br/>…………………<br/>It was daylight and their horses trudged along unerringly along the rocky path. Lancelot’s voice broke the silence they had engaged in for several hours.<br/>‘what’s your name my boy’ curiosity in the depths of his enquiry. <br/>‘squirrel’ he said, nestled comfortably in the protective arms of Lancelot. <br/>‘squirrel is an animal, what name were you given’ replied Lancelot’s sure voice. Eleesia’s quiet snort didn’t go unnoticed. <br/>‘I don’t like that name’ announced squirrel, looking out to the visage beside them. <br/>‘its still your name’ Lancelot encouraged. He would know the name of the boy he had taken charge of, the one he risked his life for, the one his wife had sought to protect many a times. The one besides his wife, who had managed to the find the crack in his character, who had managed to borrow deep and question his nature. The horses trudged on in silence for a few moments, Eleesia waiting to hear squirrels reply. <br/>‘fine its Percival’ he half spat in derision of his name. squirrel caught the up turned eyebrow Eleesia sent his way and screwed up his face in return. A small amused grin curved her lips. <br/>‘Percival’ Lancelot breathed it in confirmation. Squirrels curiosity got the better of him. This worked both ways.<br/>‘do you have a real name?’ silence met his question. Eleesia’s eyes met the fey mans, capturing each other’s and lingering.<br/>‘Lancelot……. A long time ago my name was Lancelot’. Squirrel looked back to Lancelot’s face then turned to face the road. A few hoof beats later and squirrel turned to Eleesia.<br/>‘you knew him from before.’ Eleesia’s gaze broke from Lancelot’s, her eyes peering at squirrels questioning ones.<br/>‘yes. It was along time ago’. Lancelot’s soft sigh slipped between them, his grip momentarily tightening on squirrel.<br/>‘she is my wife’ his simple statement had squirrel turning to him dumb founded, looking deeply at Lancelot’s face.<br/>‘truly?’ he questioned, stunned by the revelation.<br/>‘I love her’ Lancelot simply replied. Squirrel turned back around as Eleesia moved her horse closer to them, both of them reaching out to clasp hands. Even though he was weak and injured, his grip on her hand was sure and strong. They smiled at each other in reassurance, and Eleesia felt elation. They had done it. Lancelot was no longer the weapon of the paladins and the church. They were bringing him back to the fold, no longer a lost soul of the fae. Now would begin a new chapter of their lives, for the paladins, the church were still a large threat to the fey people. For now, they sought to find a refuge, easily defensible where Lancelot could be healed and gain his strength. Their hands parted, and they both looked to the front. Squirrels cheeky little voice broke their silence again, causing Eleesia to laugh, and a breathless, barely audible chuckle escape Lancelot.<br/>‘I knew there was something between you two. You’re not very sneaky’ he announced to Eleesia.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a new chapter in their lives for them. She had been his saviour, his sanity in a world of turmoil as the paladins had sought to teach him new doctrines and beliefs. For a while, she had been the link to his heritage. But secrets never stayed hidden, they had become complacent, their contact had become known. Through an atrocity that shaped them, they had believed each other lost to them. They had become so fundamentally different then what they once thought they would be. But the memories they both shared, became the very foundation of their entire relationship. They were bound, by the sacred traditions of their people. Husband and wife. When she had heard of him, she hoped beyond hope it was him, she had searched endlessly for him after all. It wasn’t until she became further involved, seeking to save her kin, and finding them, that she saw the boy in the man and her hopes seemed to be answered. <br/>But the man wasn’t the boy she knew, she already expected that. she knew she would have to employ tactics to break the conditioning he had been put through. she had taken her vows and the binding seriously. She might not know this man as she had gotten to know the boy, but he was hers, and she was determined to take him back. And she did. It was amazing to her, that like her, he took the binding seriously. She was his. He had admitted his love for her in the light of the day. She suspected it was something for him to hold onto, to ground him and give him direction. After all, he had nothing but her and squirrel now. She felt no insecurities towards him. She knew, their time since meeting again had cemented the binding between them and helped forge a bond that was stronger. <br/>Eleesia shifted in the saddle, coming out of her musings to check on her companions. Squirrel was drifting in the early afternoon. She suspected between the horses gait and the pleasant heat of the day was attempting to lull him to sleep. Lancelot though concerned her. He was leaning more on squirrel, no not leaning exactly…. but his body seem to fold around squirrel, so it seemed he was apart of him. His head rocked with the gentle movements of the horse, as it hung just above squirrels shoulder. She clicked to her horse, steering it closer to them, to lay her hand gently on Lancelot’s shoulder.<br/>‘Lancelot’ she intoned softly to catch his attention. He looked up, almost as if he were going to straighten. A wince flashed across his pale face; his eyes cloudy with pain.<br/>‘i’m sorry’ his voice rasped more roughly; his pain evident in the gentle tone.<br/>‘don’t apologise love. Just hang on a little longer, we are almost there’ she promised him. He shook his head briefly, another wince across his face belaying his injuries.<br/>‘its too dangerous. We have to carry on’ Eleesia sighed and looked ahead. His stubbornness seem to match what she remembered. However, she also knew, his senses weren’t going to be able to help them for much longer. Chances are infection would set in if it hadn’t already. He would be delirious. She turned back to Lancelot, her hand still on his shoulder, her eyes penetrating his.<br/>‘no. you are too injured. I didn’t go through all of this just to lose you now.’ Her voice wasn’t as gentle. A steel undertone in her voice. She was commanding him. His head tipped back slightly, his gaze sharpening on her with a killer like intensity. His eyes searched hers. Breathing out harshly, he looked away from her.<br/>‘very well’ he rasped, but he wasn’t finished. ‘but don’t think I won’t address this later’ a crooked smile appeared on her face.<br/>‘of course, husband, I wouldn’t dream of anything else’ Lancelot snorted, relaxing to fold around his young charge again.<br/>……….</p><p>She guided their horses to the little hidden patch she had found years ago. It had been left undisturbed for which she was grateful. Before her stood tall stones, creating a cave of sorts, with trees towering over and around it. Multi hewed leaves littered the top, and small holes between the stones littered the sides. Lush vegetation kept it hidden and unrecognisable except to those like her that had the fortune to stumble across it. To the side of the cave, there was a small stream that rounded into a small pool before returning to a small stream again. It was perfect for fresh water, and the small pool just enough for bathing. Because it is depth, the sun heated the water a little so it was not as cold as someone would expect. <br/>The inside of the cave was a decent size, the floor clear of debris, a small ring of stones in the middle with a ditch inside of it. A fire pit lingering from another time. A small hole directly above that filtered out smoke through the branches of the trees, so if one looked, it didn’t immediately look like a campfire. If one used the right wood from the forest, the smoke would be almost indiscernible, and would seem like a natural mist or fog depending on the time of the day or night. Small holes in the sides of the wall where the stones met, let in shafts of light. However, the holes had been filled with plain glittery stones so as not to allow the cold to enter or the breezes to disturb the fire. It was quiet cosy yet spacious and would do to hide them while Lancelot recovered. <br/>Eleesia helped a now awake squirrel down from the saddle, and together they gave aid to Lancelot, half dragging him into the cave as his strength, balance and consciousness seem to be precarious. Settling the tall fey, Eleesia set to work, stripping him down to his pants, beginning to treat his injuries. The more she uncovered, the more sickened with grief and worry she became. The more she hated the red robes that caused this. The more she despised the black and gold warriors that did this. she worked tirelessly, some of the time with squirrels help, refusing to tend to herself until she was sure Lancelot had been tended too. She was determined, she wouldn’t lose him again.<br/>……………..<br/>It had been two days; she had stayed by his side tending to him. His wounds had festered with infection, he had been rife with alternating chills and fever. Squirrel had kept the fire burning, while Eleesia used herbs, water and when the hidden was willing, her power to aid in his healing. Her hands tinted from his blood, her sinuses plagued with the illness of his body, tears of frustration trickling down her face, Eleesia fought on, trying to keep Lancelot clinging to life. She begged, pleaded with the old gods to aid her, tried to bargain with the hidden to heal him completely. And yet his fevered voice graced her with moans, begging to give him peace. <br/>On the last night, his fever reached a scorching pitch, she was forced to do the only thing she could, her desperation acute. With squirrels help, they dragged his body down to the small pool, Eleesia stripped down to a simple thin short shift she wore under her long shirt. She hooked Lancelot under his arm pits, struggling to drag him into the water. As soon as his heated skin hit the water, he started thrashing. <br/>She barely held on, hearing squirrel call to her and Lancelot desperately. Her voice rose with squirrels, calling out to Lancelot in a parody of comfort, assuring him she was there, and he was safe. His skin slowly climatized to the water, and his thrashing stilled, his still stiff body floating under her support. She towed him to the middle, where a rock sat under the water. Its height and shape was like a seat, allowing one to sit so they were still immersed into the water to their waist. Sitting, Eleesia heaved Lancelot to her, propping his head on her knees, the top of his head lightly bumping her stomach. Her voice, drowned by her tears pierced the scene, as she sung a soothing melody to him to help keep him calm. Her fingers lovingly stroked the sides of his scorching face, her legs cradling his head, enabling him to float in the calming temperate waters, washing the sweat from his skin, cleaning his wounds, and cooling his fevered skin. She stayed that way for hours, his occasional mumbled words breaking the silence. She doubled over, rested her forehead hear him, her song lulling him as she sung quietly to him. <br/>She lost track of time, of everything around her, not aware that little squirrel had armed himself and taken it upon him to stand guard. Her voice harsh from use, faded and the natural sounds of the forest around them slowly blended together, the song of nature serenading them. Slowly she became aware of Lancelot’s body relaxing, his limbs floating more freely, of the light sigh of relief that tumbled from his lips. Her hands fixed more firmly to his face and neck, lingering in check. A gasp of relief rushed from her and her sob echoed through the area.<br/>‘oh, thank the hidden’ squirrel spun looking to her.<br/>‘Eleesia?’ his voice tinged with fright, pain and hope met her ears. She looked up to him, a smile of pure happiness exploding from her lips, relief gracing her features.<br/>‘his fevers broken.’ Squirrel stumbled to the edge of the waters, his face alight with surprise and optimism.<br/>‘he’s….?’ He struggled to finish the hushed sentence.<br/>‘yes!’ her voice betrayed her, and a giggle of pure alleviation escaped her. Squirrel melted to the ground, thanking the hidden profusely. He didn’t want to see his savour, his new friend die. Her confirmation that Lancelot still lived was music to his heart. Eleesia struggled from the rock, her sleepy legs taking a moment to coordinate. She floated Lancelot to the bank, pleading to squirrel for his aid. Together, they pulled the fey male from the waters, dragging him on a blanket squirrel had acquired back up to the cave.<br/> She settled Lancelot near the flames and set to removing his pants, trying to be as clinical as she could. Squirrel handed her another blanket to cover the man, watching as Eleesia lovingly tended to him. After she was happy, squirrel gripped Eleesia by her shoulder lightly, her hand alighting on top of his.<br/>‘you need rest Eleesia.’ She nodded, then turned to him.<br/>‘I cant leave you to fend for yourself squirrel.’ he gave her a look, screwing his face up.<br/>‘I can take care of myself for a few hours. Go on, ill wake you if there’s any danger.’ She stared into squirrels face intently, before tiredly nodding. She went out to Lancelot’s horse, rifling through his saddle bags, finding a spare tunic. She returned to the cave deciding she had one more thing to do.<br/>‘I’ll wash these clothes first, and then ill rest.’ Sensing the stubbornness of the woman, squirrel begrudgingly sighed.<br/>‘ill help you.’ <br/>After the wet clothes where hung on jagged bits of rock inside the cave, Eleesia changed from the shift to Lancelot’s spare tunic, electing to crawl under the blanket next to Lancelot. Her body heat would help him she surmised, and she would know should he need her. Within moments, her exhaustion took her into a deep, healing, dreamless sleep, the sunrise filtering through the cracks of the cave not disturbing her.<br/>……….<br/>Eleesia didn’t know it, but she had slept the entire day and half of the night. She came to on her side, not enough to wake, but enough to register the comfortable warmth at her back, a heavy weight rested across her, and a steady calming breath caressing her neck. She stayed like that for a while, enjoying the sensations until she started to rouse awake. Opening her eyes, Eleesia registered squirrels body across the fire from her, his body curled up, light snores emitting from him. He slept the sleep of the innocent, eliciting a guilt in Eleesia as she looked him over. The boy looked exhausted, the darkness under his eyes a testament to the watch he had tried to keep over them from the last few days. When she became more aware, Eleesia tilted her head slightly down, trying not to disturb the weight behind her, seeing a naked arm encircling her waist, the hand curled to her chest, feeling her naked legs twined with another’s. she wanted to look behind her, but the face buried in her neck didn’t allow for that movement without jostling the body curled into hers. Her body stiffened, her breath catching in her lungs, at the unfamiliar position, until her memories caught up with her. She relaxed, the breath she held escaping slowly from her. his arm tightened, drawing her tightly against him, his lips brushing her neck. She felt the shiver run through her body, once again her breath caught in her throat. His voice was quiet, hoarse from his ordeal but welcomed.<br/>‘I have you my love.’ Her mouth quirked up into a serene smile, her eyes closing in gratitude for this gift.<br/>‘how do you feel’ her voice cracked slightly with her quiet query.<br/>‘weak’ he grumbled. Her half-muted laugh delighted him, rewarding her with a nip on the sensitive skin of her neck where it met her shoulder. She gasped. His entwined legs seemed to entwine more with hers, and her hand moved to cup the one curled into her, bringing it to rest more tightly between her breasts. She sighed in pleasure of the sensual feeling of him behind her.<br/>‘how long’ he asked of her, moving his head to rest it slightly behind hers.<br/>‘three or four days, I think. I know not how long I’ve slept for.’ She responded, feeling him stiffen for moment before he relaxed, his exhalation filling the silence.<br/>‘the boy’ he enquired.<br/>‘asleep’ she whispered, feeling a light nod against the back of her head. He moved, his arm slipping from her grasp, to turn onto his back. She turned to him, resting up onto her forearm to see him. His eyes founds hers, looking down to her waist the blanket had exposed, before tracing a path back to her face. The neck of His tunic has fallen, baring a shoulder. He had seen it, his smouldering gaze meeting hers, a knowing glint in his eyes showing he knew what she wore.<br/> She smiled impishly at him, making his eyes dance in reply. She sat up properly, dragging to her a skin of water, turning to him. She helped him sit up, so that he could sip at the contents. He sighed when he was done, his eyes closing at the relief the water gave to his dry throat. She helped him lower himself to the ground, placing the skin down on her other side. When she turned, she found him watching her. his hand moved to circle her wrist, and he suddenly pulled. <br/>She hadn’t been expecting it, and so he had been able to jerk her down to him, her body partially landing on his, her hand coming to rest near his shoulder, mindful of his injuries. His arms circled her, pulling her tighter so that their faces were but a hairs width apart. His breaths brushed her lips, his eyes capturing hers in their glittering blue depths.<br/>‘my tunic looks good on you’ she moved subtly, her legs re twining with his, her arm coming to rest more comfortably on him. He couldn’t help but react, a quiet moan proceeding his lips, as her kissed her, his hand coming to rest at the back of her head, nestled entwined into her curls. her whimper filled his mouth as he deepened the kiss, very aware of his nakedness against her, but knowing he was too weak to act on it. She traced the side of his jaw with her fingers, as they broke to breathe. <br/>‘rest love, ill be here when you wake.’ She assured him. He closed his eyes, a small assured smile lingering on his lips as he clutched her to him. She settled on him, her head laying to the side of his chest, hearing his heart beats echoing through his body. Kissing the skin there, she settled to sleep more, feeling him tighten his hold on her, the intimacy of the moment comforting and reassuring to her. for now, all was right with the world.<br/>………………<br/>It took a week for Lancelot to heal and strengthen sufficiently enough that Eleesia felt confident they could continue their journey. He had healed well and quickly after the fever broke, regaining his strength and move about with ease. She hadn’t wanted to take a chance with his weakened state in case they had met an enemy. It was too dangerous, and although their situation was just as dangerous and precarious, she felt the cave was sufficiently hidden and easily defendable if they were found. Thankfully, they hadn’t been, and they had set off, putting more distance between the paladins and themselves. <br/>Lancelot had learned from squirrel Eleesia’s dire and relentless efforts to heal him. He had been incredibly pleased and thankful to have such a beautiful, strong, and dedicated woman love him, to stay by his side and aide him. She was everything to him, more so now that she had shown his mettle to him, nurturing him. He had doubts before, after their history, after what he had been through, he hadn’t been able to help it. <br/>Although he had claimed her, he had affirmed to himself he would do anything to protect her, to protect what he had fledging in that moment. A woman he loved, who loved him completely, and the boy, who needed him, his guidance. He had adopted him of a sort, swearing to protect, nurture and guide the boy, differently to what he had experienced, for as long as he could.<br/>He had no illusions, they travelled seeking their kind, his instincts leading them on a trek to them. He knew, he would live or die at their mercy, and only hoped they would accept him, or at least take care of his wife should he meet death. He did not fear death, once upon a time ago, he had no defined weaknesses. Now he had two, the boy he fostered, cared for, and a wife he would dedicate the rest of his life to. He feared for them. With her, he felt he could finally find salvation, could finally belong. He would stay by her side until death took him. God willing that would be a long time to come.<br/> He shared an intimate look with her. he knew things would not be the smoothest sailing between them. They had both been alone for a long time. They were both stubborn, with a strong sense of will, and beliefs that had shaped them, defined them. He looked forward to the battles with her, safe in the knowledge they would help his personal growth, redefine him from the personality of the weeping monk, to the fey warrior Lancelot he so wanted to be. He hoped beyond hope, she understood him as she appeared too, and that they only grew stronger. He hoped she would recognise his intentions of his touch, his actions, his words towards her. he only knew kindness from her, did not know this gentleness she illicit from him. He was constantly learning, instinctively acting with her. his memories helped him, using his prior knowledge of her touch, their interactions from their pasts to navigate this new place with her. <br/>He felt truly alive, like his eyes had been opened, free of the constraints of the paladins. he wanted to explore everything with her, wanted to give her as much as she offered him. He hoped she accepted him completely, the darkness that lived inside of him, was the very foundation of him and would always define him. He was interested to see how she handled that. he wasn’t a soft man, he was darkness, lethality, hardness, ruthless all bundled into a muscled athletic physique, graced with unnatural speed and unerring accuracy. He was an assassin, well trained, self-disciplined, vigilant, and perceptive. he grinned in thought, his imagination providing many such interesting ways she could react to him in specific situations. Come to think of it, he still owed her punishment for daring to thinks he could command him. His thoughts spiralled darker, his thoughts turning more heated. Her voice broke into his revere.<br/>‘I’m a little scared to think what could’ve possibly brought on that smirk to your lips’. The grin in question turned decidedly wicked and carnal, his eyes turning perceptively to her. a shiver of lust shot through her, her eyes darkening as arousal started to pervade her. she was absurdly sensitive to him, and it disturbed her at times. She had only just begun to taste his darkness, her own deepest darkest desires rising through her to equal his. she had known she was capable of this but had only felt the pull of it when she was in his radius. A knowing glint lit the depth of his eyes, and she returned her gaze to in front of her. she felt him shift his horse, until he was close to her, his leg brushing hers. Being mindful of the boy, his voice was lowered, the wicked deep cadence of the words he spoke swirling around her.<br/>‘care to find out’ she sucked in a breath at the invitation within his words, desiring nothing more then to submit to it. However, he moved the horse away from her, answering a question from squirrel she hadn’t caught. She struggled to regain her composure, once again looking to Lancelot, catching his gaze again. <br/>‘I still owe you wife’ he reminded her, His eyes had darkened, intensely watching her. she felt that look deep inside and felt an answering wetness between her thighs, her breathing more erratic. She broke their eye contact, hearing his light husky laugh as it drifted over, encasing her in a delightful new hell. She was going to burn for him, she could feel it. She could only hope she would survive. <br/>Their horses trudged on, unconcerned by the increasingly silent exchanges between the fey that they carried.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I will be defining the relationship more between Lancelot and Eleesia, focusing on the interactions between them. Be aware, it could get as explicit as I can possibly get away with. I want to explore the primitive interaction that defines their characters, and possible explore how this shapes the foundation of their devotion to each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry it's taken me so long to update. life tends to get in the way. The tension between Eleesia and Lancelot had to break sometime. I can only hope I did it justice. let me know what you think.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days of travelling blended together, with little to show for it. They had stopped close to villages they passed, Eleesia electing to investigate the village and obtain supplies and information. Although Lancelot could track their kind, it had seemed they had wizened up to his abilities enough to confuse him now and then. She wasn’t sure how, but Eleesia was determined to find them. Lancelot hadn’t seemed too thrilled with the idea, but he desired to return to his very nature, as a fey. She wasn’t a fool enough to think he could shed the very darkness the church had shaped within him, but she had hopes he could find a peace he was otherwise denied. She intended to help him.<br/>
the little information she had been able to salvage, hadn’t helped them in the slightest. The information was often wrong or old. She hadn’t been able to make deeper enquiries in case the humans around her had discovered what she was. Unfortunately, some of the humans thought very much like the paladins and agreed with the cleansing. She had no desire to fight her way out, if she could possibly find what she needed without fuss, they wouldn’t remember her, and hopefully they could keep the paladins from finding them. She had no doubt the church would be hunting for their weeping traitor, should they catch up to them, Lancelot would become their most important demonstration of the ritualistic cleansing they participated in. they would make an example of him, such an example that history would be feeling the effects for generations to come. Eleesia wouldn’t let that happen.<br/>
The nights, were spent off to the side of the road hidden, small campfires so as not to been seen, wrapped tightly, nestled in Lancelot’s warmth. Eleesia and Lancelot lived for those quiet intimate moments, revelling in the simple joy of companionships and comfort it gave them. Squirrel often slept close to them, even snuggled between them if the nights were cold. It was almost as if he were afraid, they would disappear. They didn’t mind it, in fact took joy in the bond forming between the three of them, becoming a family through a shared experience.<br/>
On this particular day, was slightly outside the norm for them. They had woken and set to their routine of breaking their fast, cleaning up and disguising their campsite, before continuing in their travels. This day however found both Eleesia and Lancelot irritated with their lack of progress, and the tainted atmosphere was wrought with tension. Everything little thing they did, seemed to rub each other up the wrong way. Little squirrel was the smartest, staying mute, almost blending in with their surroundings enough that both Eleesia and Lancelot overlooked him. It was nearing late afternoon, early evening that things finally rose to a head. They had found a site appropriate to make a small camp and had dismounted. Snipping at each other, they had made quick work of tending the horses, lighting a fire, and preparing food. After they had eaten, Eleesia had stood, needing a moment to herself. Lancelot had looked at her, his stern, slightly sneering voice cutting through her.<br/>
‘where do you think you’re going?’ she ignored him, in favour of escaping the tension wrought atmosphere before unintentional words were said. Lancelot, not appreciating being ignored reacted quickly, leaping to his feet, his steps closing the distance between them rapidly. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her hard to him and she fell into his chest.<br/>
‘I asked where you were going’ he snarled, his irritation now replaced with ire. Eleesia looked up to Lancelot’s face, her features blank. His eyes were dark, a warning light in their depths. Stubbornness and rebellion flowed through her, and without any indication, she pushed off Lancelot, twirling around to his back to break his hold, swiping his legs out beneath him with hers and jumping back. She said nothing, watching him warily in anticipation of his reaction. She wasn’t disappointed. Quick as a snake, he launched himself back with his legs, almost sliding against the ground on his back, his arm stretched out. Before she could anticipate his move, his latched onto her ankle, the force of his pull upending her onto her back. Using his grip on her ankle, he forcefully pulled her until her body rested beside his, attempting to use his body to pin her to the ground. Eleesia was having none of that, and using her legs and arms, wrapped herself around him, using his own momentum to roll him over her onto his back. She straddled his waist, the knife from her boot firm in warning against his throat. Lancelot sneered at her, showing his teeth in a show of daring, his hands gripping her upper thighs firmly.<br/>
‘uh guys’ squirrels incredulous voice tainted with weariness penetrated the standoff.<br/>
‘stay out of it boy’ they both said in concert, and squirrel sat back abruptly, his wide eyes not missing anything, his body still in shock. Eleesia looked down at Lancelot, their eyes connecting, both calculating each other. With out telepathing his move, Lancelot’s hand struck, gripping her wrist, pulling the knife from her neck, rocking his pelvis up and upsetting her balance. In one seemingly smooth move, Lancelot had rolled her back underneath him, her hand holding her knife braced warningly at her own throat, her other hand secured above her head. She tilted her chin up, her eyes never once leaving his. She relaxed her muscles gradually, become limp under him, all the while Lancelot watched her. when he was sure she wasn’t going to fight back, he disarmed her, cautiously standing, his gaze piercing her. he hadn’t realised how much the adrenaline in her body fired her blood, for she hid it well, but he made the mistake of turning his back to her, securing her knife in his clothes. Coming to her feet, she launched a round house kick to the back of his shoulders. Sensing the threat, he turned back, both of his hands blocking her kick at the ankle and pushing her leg back. Almost like a graceful choregraphed dance, they twirled around each other, not connecting with kicks or hits, but adequately blocking them. It was like they were both sides of the same coin, as if they had trained together throughout their lives.<br/>

Squirrel watched in amazement, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair line, his jaw hanging open as the two moved around each other with such lethal predatory grace, captivating him in its beauty. Suddenly squirrel winced, instinctually understanding the move Eleesia had attempted to do had fallen short. She calculated wrongly and Lancelot took full opportunity to move in for the kill. Eleesia had over spun, her arm out. He allowed her momentum to continue pulling her around, grabbing her wrist and pulling it up behind her back, his other hand wrapping around her collar bone from behind. Without stopping, he rushed her forward, so that they were no longer within squirrels immediate eyesight. However, Eleesia, saw the tree he intended to pin her against come closer, and at the last minute, jumped up, forcing Lancelot to take her weight as her feet met the body of the tree until her knees bent. She pushed off hard, and Lancelot was forced back, letting her go as he stumbled. She landed on her feet, twirling to face him, but he had recovered quickly, dropping to swipe her legs from under her. she landed on her back, winded. Once she caught her breath, she looked to see Lancelot above her, her thighs wrapped around his waist, her hands restrained in his above her head. Their gazes collided for a moment, before his lips crushed hers in a bruising kiss. Her back arched, arousal flooding her system. She tightened her legs, her thighs gripping Lancelot’s hips firmly, a dark moan escaping her throat.<br/>
Lancelot thrust hard into the damp heat between her legs, his strength, the play of muscles she could feel eliciting a darker, far more predatory feeling to sweep through her. her teeth found his bottom lip, a feral instinct causing her to bite his bottom lip, drawing blood. he hissed, and she allowed him to withdraw from her. he shifted, using one hand to restrain her hands, lifting the other to the small wound she had given him. Pulling his fingers back, his eyes darkened, seeing his own blood on them. His eyes found hers again, her defiance clear in their depths. A wickedly carnal grin slowly spread onto his face. With an unnatural grace and speed, Eleesia found herself on her stomach, her body slightly twisted, with her forearm half bracing her. Lancelot’s hands dug into the ground either side of her shoulders, his torso lining the entire length of hers from shoulder to ass, his legs parting hers as his groin nestled tightly into her. she was breathless with the move, even more so as she felt his nose and lips sensually follow the line of her throat. A matching animalistic need filled her, her body rising to curve into his tightly, a whine in her throat. His mouth opened, his breaths sending goose bumps over her shoulder, resettling his weight onto one hand. The other one dived under her, his fingers running temptingly up the inside of her thigh in a carnal promise.<br/>
‘you’ll burn for that love’ his voice was husky with arousal, a dark promise she wanted more then anything. She thrust back against him; her breath harsh as she panted wantonly. His fingers slipped between her thighs, cupping her intimately. She groaned in approval, feeling inflamed. Her voice when she spoke was full of need, invitation, teasing him with her possible submission.<br/>
‘oh, but what a way to burn’. He sucked in his breath, burying his groin harder into her. her head tipped back, and she whined again. His hand travelled up to her breast, teasing it, watching her as pleasure filled her. she closed her eyes, arching against him. Both of them began to tremble, as adrenalin turned into pure molten need burning through their veins. Lancelot could stand it no more, moving to release her pants. Eleesia could barely think past the haze of pleasure that ripped through her, as Lancelot yanked her to her knees to wrench her pants down her thighs. His followed, his erection springing up against his stomach. Gripping Eleesia’s hips, he lined himself up with her entrance and thrusted into her harshly. She cried out, partly in shock, the intense pleasure ricocheting through her. he swore with reverence, feeling her wet tight heat wrap around him. Stilling for a moment, Lancelot felt like he saw heaven. Reaching forward, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, his hand coming to cup low on her throat. She felt as he pulled her torso upright, her hands moving, one gripping his hip, the other clutching at his arm.<br/>
She arched her back, to aid him in keeping him in her as deeply as possible. With a grunt he started moving, thrusting into her forcefully, her moans of appreciation encouraging him. Eleesia held on, feeling the blistering heat he created inside her rising ferociously. This was not love making, this was a pure animalistic predatory need, a man marking his woman. Her nails dug into the skin of his hip, splitting the skin. The hiss at her neck pre-empted the feel of his teeth grazing her neck before he bit down, her cry of combined pain and pleasure echoing through the trees. His thrusts became harder, so much so that she lost her balance, his hands aiding in her fall to steady her on her hands and knees. He gripped her hips harder, enough to bruise Eleesia’s delicate skin. The sounds leaving her throat turned harsh, a mish mash of tenors that encouraged him on. He leant forward, his hands moving to grip her shoulders to brace her against his thrusts. She moved her legs as far open as she could, her pants restricting her. her back arched as she dropped to her forearms, allowing his penetration to become deeper. She felt her muscles clench in preparation, as she felt the promise of ecstasy filling her.<br/>
‘Lancelot…’ she continually begged him, yearning for the release she knew he could give her. his thrusts became bruising in intensity, as if he were trying to force himself as deeply inside of her as she could. His rhythm faulted, his desperation to reach his own promise of completion tightening his muscles. Hard muscle rippled under silky skin as he braced himself for the sudden burst of pleasure, he could feel approaching. Eleesia felt it, hanging on the edge of the precipice, a momentary standstill before the fall. And fall she did, her orgasm crashing through her, screaming out as her muscles gripped him hard, milking him. She trusted back against him, her body taunt in the most extreme pleasure she had experienced.<br/>
When Lancelot felt Eleesia tip over the edge, he couldn’t help it. He fell after her, his body taut, forcing himself as deep into her as he could, growingly loudly as he felt his seed spill from him, filling her. he pulled out slightly, thrusting in hard again, groaning her name. he felt when her orgasm ended, felt her body begin to give out beneath him. He went with her, falling slightly to the side so his full weight was not on her. he was still inside her, his body jerking slightly as her internal muscles continued to ripple against his length. He snaked an arm around her waist, burying his head against the skin between her shoulder blades, his breath harsh on her skin. They took their time, luxuriating in the hazy feeling their fall into ecstasy left them, enjoying the breeze rapidly cooling their heated sweat soaked skin. Lancelot’s hand moved to caress the skin it touched, creating goose bumps to form on Eleesia’s abdomen, as it travelled down between her legs. Her sharp intake of breath sounded as he left her body, his teeth nipping her skin, when his fingers caught their mixed essence that leaked out of her. She moaned as she felt Lancelot rubbing the sticky fluid over her skin between her legs and on her inner thighs.<br/>
‘I’ve dreamt of you like this, your skin glistening of our combined juices….’ his voice hushed, seductive in its quality.<br/>
‘Lancelot’ she breathed out like a whispered prayer. Lancelot’s lingering kiss between Eleesia’s shoulder blades caused shudders to rake down her back. She could barely move, from the deep ache that permeated her pelvis area, Lancelot had left her with, didn’t even want to contemplate moving from the warmth and security his body provided as it sheltered her. his hand moved again until it settled wetly on her abdomen, smearing the residual stickiness on her skin. a deeply satisfied grin spread across her face, still locked in a haze of pure bliss as Lancelot’s mouth worshipped her back. Her hand moved to lightly twine with his, as his fingers stroked her skin, the actions of a dominant possessive male. She melted against his masculinity, in pure feminine satisfaction, completely forgetting the argument that had started everything. Eleesia settled into a light doze, confident Lancelot would protect her, as his possession of her cooled and hardened on her skin.</p><p>Lancelot’s sigh of relaxation awakened Eleesia from her doze. She stretched in his arms, turning as she did so. His hand caressed the plains of her body, luxuriating in her curves and soft decadent skin. A lazy grin sported her lips, as she opened her eyes to face Lancelot. His eyes showed his amusement, the corner of his mouth lightly quirked. Watching her watch, him, his eyes roamed her features. Before long, his head dipped, kissing her deeply and languidly, her hands moving to curve around his neck. She moaned in appreciation, re opening her eyes as he broke the kiss.<br/>
‘that was a long time in coming’ Lancelot said lowly, his voice a seductive purr. The smile on Eleesia’s lips grew.<br/>
‘i’m not complaining, although I would have to ask your intentions’ his eyebrow cocked up, the motion one of enquiry, encouraging her to continue.<br/>
‘do you always intend to win an argument like that’ her eyes scoured his naked skin. a darkly amused carnal grin lit Lancelot’s face, his hand roaming her body possessively, coming to cup her jaw, turning her head towards his.<br/>
‘if it works’ he stately simply. Eleesia’s eyes focused on his, her face dropping slightly, her eyebrows raising slightly in recognition of his words.<br/>
‘really…. Then I’ll have to make sure to always get the upper hand’ she alluded to their fight beforehand. Lancelot’s amusement turned lustful, his eyes alight with and intensity that sent shivers racking Eleesia’s frame.<br/>
‘your fighting fuels my desire love’ he leant down, his lips caressing her sensitive ear as they lightly brushed it when he spoke.<br/>
‘ill pin you beneath me, I’ll fuck you hard until you beg, and then ill fuck you harder. You’ll burn for me by the time i’m done’ the dark promise whispered so enticingly in her ear fuelled her renewed desire. Her nails dug into his skin in reaction, her leg moving to curve over his hip. His hand moved to grip her thigh, holding her leg in place as he whispered against her ear again.<br/>
‘your body will be full of my possession, so much so my seed will overflow and taint your thighs…. everyone will know your mine love’ he promised her<br/>
‘always’ she whispered her vow to him, meeting his ferocious kiss.<br/>
‘they’ll scent me on you….’ His quiet pledge filled her with a raw pure unholy unadulterated need<br/>
……..<br/>
Squirrel had gotten up in an attempt to follow Eleesia and Lancelot, worried they would go to far and kill each other. But when their positions had registered in his mind, he scampered away, finding a nice crevice to hide in, burying his head within his arms. He so didn’t want apart of what he knew what was about to happen. Glad they were no longer going to kill each other, he promised he would certainly let them know he did not want to witness their acts of love. He could go his whole life without that kind of knowledge thank you very much. He could only hope they would hurry it up. He couldn’t sleep through that unholy racket….</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I apologize its taken so long to post another chapter. life has a damn tendency to get in the way. and sometimes a story just wont jump out of my head no matter how hard i try. i have to type the damn thing. anyway, this chapter sort of ended up on a different tangent then i was originally going to go, but i think i like it. although its not quiet as long as i like. let me know what you think. don't hesitate to give me ideas..... it can give me other ideas.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been two months of travelling. They hadn’t seen a thing, hadn’t been able to find any hint of any fae. It was if they had disappeared completely. Yet occasionally both Eleesia and Lancelot would sense them. However, they hid, they did it well, somewhat wiser after the paladins massacre. Eleesia sensed there was more to the story, and often wondered if magic was employed. She also wondered if they deliberately hid from them, or if it was just hiding completely from everyone. She hoped beyond hope it was the later. She was tiring of travelling, and it wasn’t helped that the last two weeks, she had felt ill, her breasts feeling heavy and painful. Lancelot had noticed differences in Eleesia, had seemed more caring and protective of her. she had been taught from her kind different symptoms and remedies. She had a sneaking suspicion this was a joint cause of her and Lancelot. She only hoped they could find their kind before the paladins found them. If she were correct, she wouldn’t be much use in fighting soon enough. She watched the scenery pass, her mind occupied by her worries.<br/>Lancelot himself was more aware of their surroundings. And of his wife. He had noticed differences about her, and although she hadn’t confided in him about her symptoms, had noticed her sneaking out of camp early in the mornings. He had followed her worried, had seen her empty the contents of her stomach. He dared not go to her, worried she would take his presences the wrong way. He trusted her, but worried for her. she had also seemed to have developed an aversion to cooking meat and often made excuses for her absence when he prepared their meals. Even squirrel had noticed, although he kept his comments to himself, instead watching Eleesia closely. Lancelot was no fool. Although he had been raised in the faith, through the church, he also knew a lot of other things. It wasn’t hard when in the presences of others. He had also felt the difference in sensing her, and her scent had changed subtly. He hoped beyond hope, his suspicions were correct. It would be a gift he didn’t ever think he would ever receive. And yet he knew now more than ever, he needed to protect her.<br/>Although Eleesia was safe with their people, he knew without a doubt, she was in terrible danger should the church ever learned of this. and so, he kept guard, protecting the two most important people in his life. The horses ambled on, and he tried numerous times to extend his senses. They were currently going through paths within the mountains, but he could not detect any hints of their people. It wasn’t for lack of trying. He had his own suspicions, there was magic at play here, serious magic. He did not believe it was magic that the fey had access to. Otherwise he himself would not have been able to track and kill so many of his own kind. No this was something else. If confused him, irritated, and frustrated him. He understood it could be because he was present. He had tried to have Eleesia and squirrel go on ahead of him, hoping they would be able to connect with others. But they both refused to leave him. He was grateful truly, but he feared he couldn’t fight the entirety of the church on his own. Although it wouldn’t stop him trying if he had to. <br/>This morning, Eleesia had looked worse then normal. He looked to her, his eyes cataloguing her, gauging her health. Her face was pale, her hair limp. One arm was wrapped around her waist, the other clenching the reins of her horse tightly. Her jaw looked stiff, no doubt clenching her teeth. Her body was stiff, and she overall seemed lacklustre in composition. Lancelot gritted his teeth, his gaze once again moving to face the path ahead of them. He spotted a clearing ahead, and making a swift decision, nudged his horse to Eleesia’s side to free her horses reins from her hand. She glanced briefly to him, before relinquishing them, then slumped slightly in the saddle, like she no longer had the energy to maintain awareness. Lancelot then knew he had made the right decision. He guided the horses to the clearing, dismounting, and helping both squirrel and Eleesia off the horses. He led Eleesia over to lean against some boulders, requesting squirrel get the water skin, checking her pallor and passing his hand lovingly and comfortingly down the scar on the side of her face. Her eyes met his and her quiet voice reached him.<br/>‘i’m ok’. She sounded miserable. Lancelot fed her some water when squirrel returned. He watched her closely.<br/>‘rest my love’ he implored her. Eleesia relaxed some, her eyes closing in gratitude. Lancelot watched her for a moment before leaving the skin beside her and getting to his feet. He walked towards the path they had followed, before stopping, his hands clenched. Turning her looked towards Eleesia, watching her steady breaths as she lay listlessly propped against the boulder. His eyes found squirrel who watched on warily, recognising Lancelot’s mood. Lancelot dropped his gaze to the ground and starting pacing back towards the two, stopping before he reached them, turning to pace towards the path. He kept pacing, his hands clenching tightly all the while, his teeth gritted, glancing occasionally at Eleesia all the while. He felt unsure, weak, and useless. He wasn’t sure what to do. As these thoughts scrolled through his mind, his anger sparked, raging higher and higher. Suddenly he turned, sensing fey. He moved towards it quickly, following it up the path they were headed towards. Then suddenly it disappeared. In a sudden fit of anger, Lancelot spun a complete circle before screaming seemingly into the air before him.<br/>‘stop hiding! Can’t you see she’s ill? She needs help yet you hide like cowards! I am no longer any threat to you! She holds me accountable. Can’t you see, i’m hers to command. I serve only her! help her!’ his voice teetered off into the breeze, his breaths heaving in his chest. when no acknowledgement of his words happened, he turned, growling, returning to Eleesia’s side. Squirrel sat with her, watching Lancelot intently. Lancelot briefly glanced at squirrel, slightly shaking his head. Squirrel sighed sadly and turned to Eleesia as Lancelot knelt at her other side. Lancelot gently picked up Eleesia’s limp hand, resting his forehead gently against the side of her face. Closing his eyes, his voice rasped out.<br/>‘I’m sorry…… I failed you’ his voice broke and all the anger drained from his body. They stayed quiet and still like that, the breeze, and quiet mountains a silent witness to Lancelot’s spiralling sadness. Suddenly a flurry of movement happened. Squirrel started, Lancelot flew to his feet, freeing is sword from its sheath to hold it aloft threateningly in front of him. However, what his sight met was…unexpected. Infront of him stood fey, his senses running wild from them. There was a manner of weapons pointed at him, but still he stood, his sword up. No one moved, in case that movement was interpreted wrong. A fey man stepped forwards slowly, his eyes catching Lancelot’s.<br/>‘put your sword down slowly grey monk. We mean her and the boy no harm…. you however we don’t trust. Submit to being restrained.’ Lancelot heard the warning, and yet he didn’t move. He wasn’t sure if these fey could be trusted. His senses were untrustworthy at that time, firing rapidly in a dizzying confusion after so long of absence of fey. His eyes sharpened as several bows pointed at seemed to be drawn back further. His body was strung tight, muscles bunched ready to act.<br/>‘did you not hear me monk?’ questioned the fey man threateningly. Lancelot’s eyes drifted towards him, his gaze assessing.<br/>‘I heard’ he replied, making no move to comply. A movement towards the back of the group followed by a female voice sounded. He watched as a fey woman came towards him, followed by a rather tall bald man behind him. He sensed them both, he also sensed the power in them. He knew the magic concealing the fey came from one of them. The woman stopped next to the other fey man, her empty hand, held out to him as if to stop him.<br/>‘please lower your sword. We have come to help her’ her voice sounded almost desperate, her eyes jumping between him and the two he sort to protect. He considered the woman in front of him, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. <br/>‘only you can pass. See to her, but I wont lower my sword’ her eyes met his, and she seemed to consider his words seriously. The taller man behind him reached towards her, his hand alighting on her shoulder. however, his eyes bore into Lancelot, the threat in them clear.<br/>‘touch her and ill kill you. She goes untouched’. Lancelot looked at the man, then one single simple nod from him graced the mans request with acknowledgment. The man pulled back on the woman’s shoulder and she turned to look to him.<br/>‘Nimue, be careful.’ A small grateful smile graced her lips.<br/>‘he wont hurt me father’ she said in reply. He looked at her exasperated.<br/>‘he protects them, I have no doubt he would kill if he feels they are threatened’ Nimue again looked at merlin with a small smile.<br/>‘I know’ she replied. With that she gently pulled from his grasp, turning to watch Lancelot closely as she moved towards Eleesia slowly. He allowed her past, his eyes not once finding her, instead staying on the perceived threat in front of him. She went to Eleesia’s side, her hand resting against the woman’s face. Eleesia’s eyes opened, falling on Nimue. A gratefully relieved smile faintly lit her lips.<br/>‘finally,’ she said. Nimue smiled at Eleesia, before concentrating on the connection of their skin. Nimue called to the hidden to aid her in administering to Eleesia. A few moments of stillness, then a smile slowly crept onto Nimue’s face as the hidden helped her to see Eleesia’s ailment. When her eyes captured Eleesia’s again, they were filled with unshed tears of joy.<br/>‘you are with child’ her voice was loud enough to carry, at least to Lancelot. His turned at her words, dropping his sword and rushing to the women’s side. Nimue looked to him, smiling, and quickly moving aside so that Lancelot could get closer to Eleesia. His hands framed the face of his wife, hers coming to curl around his wrists.<br/>‘my beloved wife, the gift you have given me’ he sealed his words with a deep kiss. All the while, Nimue turned to squirrel who rushed into her arms, both tearful at being reunited. they returned to the others, Nimue motioning them to lower the weapons. Although they did, they still held them at the ready, in case they were needed. None of the trusted this traitor…. this killer. Merlin wrapped an arm around Nimue’s shoulder, half hugging her while Nimue hugged squirrel to her. they watched as Lancelot let down his guard enough to show them, he did indeed feel. As if he felt them, he moved, his body turning towards them, half covering Eleesia. His eyes focused on Nimue as she began to speak.<br/>‘she weak, is in need of medicine and other substance. I suspect she hasn’t been able to eat?’ Lancelot stayed silent. It was all the confirmation Nimue needed.<br/>‘we can help her. but you will be our prisoner. I promise she will come to no harm.’ Lancelot considered Nimue. He turned to Eleesia for a moment, looking deeply into her gaze. She nodded at Lancelot lightly, a comforting smile of her face. He took her hand in his, raising it to his lips, his eyes intent on hers. He returned her nod barely, before he turned back to Nimue. He stood, watching as the weapons rose to target him again. He carefully, slowly walked towards the group. Halfway to them, he stopped dropping to his knees and holding his arms straight out in front of him together confidently. No one moved for a moment, assessing the seriousness of Lancelot’s actions. His husky voice broke the moment.<br/>‘for her and her only do I concede.’ Nimue nodded, and merlin came forth to tie Lancelot’s wrists together. Afterwards he helped him to his feet, turning as others approached. Among them was Arthur. When Arthur reached them, he looked into Lancelot’s gaze, his face expressionless. Then he swung with his right fist, catching Lancelot in the side of his chin hard. Lancelot moved with the blow, then straightened after, making faces as he stretched his jaw to determine the damage and ease out the pain.<br/>‘I’ve been waiting a long time for that. and its no where near what you deserve’. Eleesia who had been helped up by Nimue and pim spoke as they sidled up to them.<br/>‘an animal cant be blamed for what its environment has taught it. Why should Lancelot be blamed for what they did to him? How does that make us any better?’ her words met with silence, as several pairs of eyes turned her way.<br/>‘do not speak of what you no not. You don’t have all the facts’ Eleesia warned Arthur gravely. Lancelot looked at Nimue and spoke.<br/>‘get her out of here please.’ Nimue nodded at Lancelot. Eleesia was weak. They needed to leave. The group banded together getting ready to depart, Lancelot willingly being led behind them by merlin as several fey still kept arms targeted at him. He knew this was only the start.</p>
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